Gunslinger Girl: Marked
by sasahara17
Summary: AU and OOC, Lauro is dead. Elsa de Sica is very much alive. But she won’t be for much longer if certain special interest groups have their way. When everybody is out to get you, what is a rouge cyborg to do? Sequel to 'Mistake'.
1. mala tempora currunt

Disclaimer; Gunslinger Girl is the property of Yu Aida.

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**Act One; mala tempora currunt**

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**Rome****, Italy**

---

Elsa de Sica did not understand why she was still alive.

Part of her wanted to die. She had noting more to live for. If anything she only had an ever growing number of reasons to die.

Lauro was dead, by her hand no less.

She had nowhere else to go and no aim in life.

The withdrawal symptoms were putting her in an absolute state of agony.

Yet, here she was, alive and breathing, her human instinct of 'survive at all costs' finally overriding both her own conscious wishes and the waning influence of conditioning.

Not that surviving was an easy task from her perspective.

Her wounds had come oh so close to being infected, but fortunately she had stolen some medial supplies and, using her knowledge of human anatomy and medicine, actually did a reasonable job of patching up her shoulder wound on her own.

The authorities were likely still looking for who broke into that pharmacy.

She had rummaged through garbage cans for the smallest scrap of food and water. Elsa found that behavior to be strangely humiliating, but she did it anyway. She needed food to beat her failing strength.

She had tired to rob an (illegal-? she had no idea) firearms store, knowing eventually the Social Welfare Agency would pursue her eventually and needed some form of weaponry to defend herself, but had come off worse for the wear. Do not rob a man with a gun, lest he use it on you. She had suffered additional wounds because of her carelessness, one to the torso and one to the left forearm. It was a miracle the bullets didn't cause any serious injury to her internal organs.

She had escaped with her life only because the storekeeper was taken aback when he realized tat it was an eleven year old girl who was robbing his shop in the dark of night. She took her chance and ran, blood trailing behind her.

I was a wonder she didn't sustain any lasting damage from all the abuse she had been getting. Cyborgs were pretty sturdy, but even Elsa knew there was a limit to how much damage she could take before her body began to fail. She only had so many bandages, and the her body felt like it was on fire.

And she was still without a gun.

After that incident, Elsa had been too frightened that she might not survive a repeat performance if she trying to rob another gun store again that she steered clear from such activities, despite knowing she would be unarmed for the inevitable confrontation.

Elsa knew in all probability, the SWA would know exactly were she was. How they did, she did not know, but she knew before long they would come at her, regardless as to whether she was ready or not. And when they did, weaponless or not, she would fight.

Elsa de Sica did not understand why she was fighting to say alive. Yet she was, and she was willing to devote every last inch of her being to keep it that way.

---

As Elsa had predicted, it was only a matter of time before the Social Welfare Agency learned what had transpired.

Three eye witnesses, a ballistics test and one very dead handler and a man in a coma were all they needed to know that Elsa de Sica had gone rouge.

The threat was bigger than they could ever have expected. A rouge cyborg. An awesome killing machine, honed with the finest training Italy had to offer, with superhuman strength and agility, had somehow malfunctioned. She killed her handler and put a police officer, a good man and a single father of two in a coma.

She had to be stopped.

In a move that stunned to his subordinates, Lorenzo contacted his opposite number in Section One... and requested their help. He knew it was only a matter of time before it got out anyway with the public fanfare on the policeman's death, better to get their assistance now and make it look like a coordinated effort, than have Draghi blow the whistle to the higher ups later down the line. Draghi's smug face was far better than a seeing the angry faces of the bass.

Two special taskforces comprising of both Section One and Section Two members was set aside to find and contain the situation.

The first consisted on operatives whose sole directive was to make sure that the SWA's activities did not ever reach the ears of the public. Easier said than done. Pricilla, Ferro, Alphonso, Jean and Rico were put in this group along with four other Section One members. It would be a difficult job, with Elsa rampaging across the city in her unbridled crime spree, but they still considered they had the easier job.

The second was tasked with the elimination of Elsa de Sica herself.

Henrietta, Beatrice and surprisingly Claes were assigned to this group with their handlers, with Triela on standby should the three prove insufficient to complete the task. Three cyborgs to take down one. Claes was taken aside by Lorenzo himself and given a very specific assignment, one that she accepted after much deliberation and cryptic consultation with her roommates and the scientists. She didn't say much other than she gave Henrietta a set of gardening books and asked her to take care of her garden for a while. She then began to pack her belongings.

Claes hadn't done anything yet or gone anywhere yet, so the girls were mystified as to her strange behavior.

Two specialists, Pietro Fermi and Elenora Gabrielli were Section One's contribution. They analyzed Elsa's psychological profile, her combat record, her habits and spoke with everyone that knew her to paint a picture about what to expect. They came to the conclusion that Elsa was a deranged psychopath and would have gone rouge eventually. It was fortunate she did so in a deserted park instead of a crowded marketplace.

She was also arguably Section Two's most dangerous and well trained cyborg despite her relative age. None of her former peers could even hope to match her in a straight up one on one fight. Pinning this one down would be a feat in itself until the conditioning withdrawal symptoms kicked in. Even then, she might be a difficult one to put down.

The situation seemed pretty bleak.

Then it got worse.

Somehow, the enemy had gotten wind that one of the dolls had flown the coop and were in the process of tracking her down. Four men of the highest calibre had been dispatched to capture Elsa. From what they learned of them, these men were not one to be taken lightly, even for regular human beings. If anything, they should be worried, the Padania had readily sent 'mortal' agents to carry out their will against a mechanical body. That spoke volumes about the men already.

One of the men even had made contact, a curious gentleman named 'Pinocchio'. Even though 'Pinocchio' lacked the GPS edge they possessed, sources had suggested that the assassin had already found and almost succeeded in capturing Elsa once already.

Waiting for conditioning's withdrawal symptoms to tip the scales in their favor was no longer an option.

By the time the sun dawned on the seventh day after the fateful night, the SWA began operations to hunt down and terminate their former asset.

---

As for the girl in question? She was experiencing nine different kinds of hell.

She was sitting curled in a fetal position in a small alcove in the back-streets of Italy. She was filthy, cold, hungry and her entire body felt like it was on ablaze.

Withdrawal symptoms from her lack of conditioning.

Elsa was almost unrecognizable.

Elsa's once clean blonde hair was now flowing free, no longer in the twin pigtails she was so well known for, and was matted with grime and sweat. Her clothes were torn and ripped in many places. She scarf was torn up, used as makeshift bandages in her first hours of 'freedom'. There was grime and dried blood over many places of her body.

Yet despite her sordid state, the former assassin kept her diminished but still functional senses peeled. Earlier a man with knives had attempted to capture her. She was fairly certain she had never seen him before, so she assumed he was with Padania.

She didn't know why, but she knew she had to resist capture. Caught off guard, she had to fight him up close. He was unlike anything she had ever encountered before, his speed and skill not only comparable to hers at her prime, perhaps even surpassing those limits.

Her escape was only because she fell into the Tiber river during their running battle... Or at least she fooled him into thinking she fell into the river; Elsa knew she would sink like than a rock if she ever tried that escape route. One of the things she never learned how to do was swim.

She hoped that man was still combing the length of the river. That should buy her some time.

She cursed him under her breadth; she scuffle with him had caused her to drop most of her inventory including all her painkillers. All she had now was two rolls of unused bandages, a single remaining bottle of antiseptic cream, three very sharp knives that had been used against her by that man, her torn clothes including her waterproof jacket and a mostly empty glass bottle of water and a souvenir wooden drinking straw she took from a garbage can.

It was with only these things in her jacket that Elsa had to repel the first attempt on her life by the SWA.

---

It was when the sky turned red by the setting of the sun when it happened.

Elsa didn't know how she realized they were coming for her. The only warning she received was the sound of pattering feet in her deserted alleyway.

Then, painfully turning her head, Elsa saw Henrietta of all people round the corner.

It is a confirmed fact that when a Cyborg enters into a combat situation, that they have been programmed to block out any sort of pain or anxiety and focus their mind. True they are aware of injury. It was just that pain no longer affected them until after that combat situation has passed. Even without her conditioning, Elsa's brain chemistry had forever been altered that whenever she was forced into an actual combat situation, she would be able to rise up to the task no matter her mental or physical state at the time.

Hence why the cyborg assassins of the SWA were referred to as dolls and machines, seemingly soulless automatons in battle, a far cry from the adolescent children they really were.

Instantly, Elsa's changed brain chemistry forced all the pain and fear out of her mind and surged into action. Henrietta had not seen her yet, as evidenced by the small girl slowly sweep her P90 around the shadowed alleyway.

Elsa had two options, fight or flight.

Really, she had only one...flight. The chances of Henrietta being unsupported were slim to none. Unarmed as she was, Elsa was far from ready for a straight out confrontation with even the hopelessly inept Angelica. So Elsa took a quiet deep breadth to reduce her need for breathing and waited for Henrietta's gaze to sweep away. Then she began her escape, favoring speed over caution.

All the while, Elsa calculated her next move.

---

Henrietta was confused.

"I don't see her anywhere Jose." She said into her wire.

For all her enhanced senses, Henrietta was unable to see where the familiar beret and jacket of her quarry was.

"That's odd, the GPS says she's right in front of you. In fact, it hasn't moved much. She should be stationary. You sure you can't see her Henrietta?"

Henrietta furrowed her eyebrows and squinted. All she could see was the still shadows, empty alcoves, maybe a few trashcans, and absolutely no sign of Elsa de Sica. And it was a straight alley for about fifty meters down from where she was standing too.

"I'm sorry Jose, I really can't see her."

"Is that so? Well, Lauro supposedly taught her everything, so I'm not surprised that you can't see her yet since she might have camouflaged herself. What about you Claes?"

Claes was positioned at the other end of the alleyway, like Henrietta, the older cyborg was scanning for the target, holding her gun 'uncomfortably' in her hands. "I can't see anything either."

"... did she ditch the tracking device? Can't be, it's next to her heart..." the handler contemplated. "Alright, advance slowly, but back each other up. I don't want her getting the jump on you since I'm not there to cover you."

"Yes Jo…"

Abruptly Beatrice stepped around Henrietta, causing the latter to recoil as a reflex action. Henrietta hadn't worked with Beatrice much before, but truth be told, the young cyborg was quite intimidated by the other girl, especially after she found out about Elsa. Elsa and Beatrice were both so cold and distant, that they were so alike, it worried Henrietta. She couldn't help but wonder... what if Beatrice went berserk as well?

Henrietta resolved to try and befriend Beatrice. Elsa's friendless situation might have contributed to what lead down to this path, a thought that did make Henrietta slightly guilty since she gave up so early.

The emotionless cyborg swept her eyes around the alley, and then closed them.

"Beatrice, do you see anything?" Henrietta tired to inject as much friendliness into her tone as possible, but still came up flat.

Suddenly Beatrice's eyes shot open and her upper body snapped into a firing position. She squeezed off a three round burst from her FAMAS, and promptly grazed her target in the right lower leg.

---

"Gah!"

Elsa should have known it was her rancid small that would give her away.

She almost lost her grip on the tiles of the roof when the bullet found itself searing a few millimetres of flesh off her shin. Fortunately she hauled herself over the threshold just as the bullet struck, allowing her to avoid the other two.

One problem with the cyborgs she often noted was their inability to unconsciously register things above or below their level of elevation. Since they were trained for mostly indoor combat, attacking targets that they could not see above or below their peripheral vision without consciously being aware of it was an unfortunate problem their standard training did not cover. A weakness Elsa fully intended to exploit.

She almost succeeded too.

Alas, she had forgotten Beatrice was practically a blood hound with that nose of hers. That mistake was certainly going to cost her.

"...ah..." Elsa clamped her hand down on her bleeding wound.

Listened carefully as she heard the small stampeding of feet as the three mechanical bodies hurried after her. Quickly applying her antiseptic cream and a fresh bandage to her newest injury, Elsa pushed though the pain and took off across the roofs.

As a cyborg, even one experiencing withdrawal, Elsa was still strong enough to leap across gaps between the rooftops.

As long as she tried to remain visible to the general public, the SWA could be less inclined to try anything. That was her strategy; Head for a crowded spot, they'll be less likely to try shooting her there. But it only bought her time, and what she needed to do was get away.

---

"...she took to the roofs." Jose murmured to himself as he and watched the live video feed in the surveillance van a safe distance away. "She realized that we don't train them to actively scan different elevations so she took to the roofs."

Despite himself, Jose felt a small grudging respect of his late colleague's murderer.

Although standard operating normally involved the handlers to take to the field with their cyborgs, but in this case Lorenzo judged that it would be too risky to have the vulnerable human handlers right a fully trained rouge cyborg, hence why Jose was forced to cool his hells in the back of a stupid van while Henrietta was putting her life on the line.

He wasn't too happy about it, and protested the idea deeply. If Henrietta was out in the field, he wanted to be there to cover her. Then Jean played dirty by explaining oh so calmly to Henrietta what horrors awaited Jose should Elsa ever meet him in person. After that, with his own cyborg urging him to stay in the van, Jose was left with little choice.

Bernado on the other hand was happily sipping a can of beer in the seat next to him, confident that in a three to one situation there was no way they could possible fail.

"Beatrice almost hit her." Pierto noted. "It's just that we were too late in realizing she had gone upwards."

"This is great." Bernado commented. "It's like fox hunting, except with high powered automatic rifles and a semi bullet proof target."

Jose tried not to show his displeasure at Bernado's attitude towards their hunt. Jose didn't think that the problem wasn't as easy as his colleague thought it would be.

They had tapped into the city's security camera network, allowing a third person view of the action when Elsa was outdoors. Between the first person live feeds, the city's surveillance cameras and their GPS, they had a pretty good grasp on the action.

It was a pity Elenora went to search up on Elsa's pre-cyborg background, he would like to hear her input into the unfolding events. She was the one who drew up Elsa's psychological profile.

His impression of Elsa de Sica was that of an exceptionally skilled and well trained cyborg. Lauro in his drive to make the girl his perfect tool had molded her into a weapon on a completely different level from anything even the Social Welfare Agency had imagined.

Lauro wanted a real living breathing action hero. Well there she was.

If Jose's hunch proved right, Elsa could very well turn the tables on them if she remembered anything she was taught.

"Hey, Beatrice is intercepting her now."

Thanks to the cybernetic advancements in their eyes, the human members of the taskforce could see exactly what the three cyborgs on the field were seeing in real time on the computer screens. Live feed.

They watched on the GPS map as Beatrice's signal overlapped with Elsa's.

Elsa had chosen to duck into the emergency stairwell of a small hotel. Beatrice, her FAMAS in her Amanti case as not to make it conspicuous, had easily entered the hotel herself and was ascending that same stairwell.

It was only a matter of time until they clashed.

So the three men stared intently a at the monitor watching from a first person perspective as Beatrice advanced up the stairwell, one hand in her coat ready to draw her Walther P99 at a moment's notice...

The monitor turned the corner, and there was a flash of green, and suddenly the screen became a mass of distorted pixels.

"What?" Bernado exclaimed.

-

Elsa's hearing was as good as Beatrice's nose. She heard the other cyborg ascending the stairs. So Elsa waited for the girl and took her completely by surprise with a hook kick to the face with enough force to send the girl sailing down the stairs. Elsa plucked the flying Walther P99 out of the air and advanced.

-

For a moment, it seemed like Beatrice was dead, the screen was all static and there was no response from her. There was complete silence from the three men.

Then the screen's resolution returned, as the feed resumed, with a nice picture of the gray cement floor now filling the screen. A soft moan echoed through the speakers. The camera shook as the girl groggily pulling herself to her feet...

"Hold it."

Beatrice stopped and took a sharp intake of breath. Hell the three men stopped breathing themselves when they heard the voice over the speaker.

"Turn around."

The camera slowly rotated until Elsa de Sica was in full view. Holding Beatrice's Walther P99 directly towards the camera, Beatrice's eye, Elsa despite the sorry state she was in never looked so menacing to the men. Her beneath her shabby appearance they could see the fire burning in Elsa's eyes.

"Hello Beatrice."

"...de Sica."

It was little known that the two girls had a grudging respect for one another, since Beatrice and Elsa were two of the more efficient cyborgs in the SWA. Elsa strove for perfection, and Beatrice was the best attack dog Bernado could have.

Unlike Henrietta, Rico and company, Elsa and Beatrice were, for the lack of a better term, career women. As such, they respected each other, whatever reasons behind drive they both strove to excel in their trade.

"Give me your all your weapons."

"You have my Walther. That's all I have." Beatrice responded. Did you think I could bring my FAMAS into a hotel unnoticed?"

When she fell, Beatrice quickly threw her Amanti case over the side of the stairwell. The loud sound from her crashing against the floor hid the fact that her FAMAS had landed on a level below them, possibly rebounding off a wall to further distance itself to lessen the likely hood of Elsa from ever getting her hands on it. It was a good initiative, but it might be Beatrice's last.

"...Then give me your ammunition." Elsa knew Beatrice was lying though her teeth. They had Amanti cases for a reason, and shed just been shot by the bullpup. It was unlikely Beatrice had not brought it with her, but time was short and Elsa didn't have time to argue with her.

"Do as she says." Bernado cut in, looking at the monitors carefully. His cyborg was in serious danger now. All his previous humour had drained out of him as the man focused on the tasking making sure Beatrice wasn't the one in the body-bag at the end of the day. Henrietta had just entered the hotel and was moving towards the stairs as swiftly as she could. "But do it, slowly."

The screen wobbled as Beatrice unfastened her magazines from her belt, slowly one at a time, and handed them to Elsa. Five twelve round magazines of fresh ammunition in all. Elsa frowned. That was a lot of ammunition. Obviously the weren't taking any chances.

By this time, Henrietta's live feed showed she was peeking around the corner of the stairwell, preparing herself to pop out and unload her SiG Sauer into Elsa's back.

"Are you going to kill me?" Beatrice asked, perhaps attempting to draw Elsa's attention.

"Not when Henrietta is peeking around the corner, I'm not." Elsa moved like greased lightning, grabbing Beatrice, lifting the startled cyborg into the air with powerful arms and tossing her down the stairs.

Naturally Henrietta couldn't take the shot without popping out and having Beatrice fall on top of her. Beatrice's feed once again became a mix of static as the cyborg was sent sprawling on the ground, while Henrietta darted out only to find the stairwell empty with exit door on that level swinging shut.

---

Elsa stuffed the oddly fitting green polymer frame Walther P99 into her holster, and the magazines into her jacket pocket as she ran through the small hotel hall way, ignoring the startled looks of guests as she ran down the carpeted central stairs that many of the guests used.

Elsa resisted the urge to pump her fists in satisfaction. She'd somehow bested two of her former peers, including Henrietta. As close as it was, Elsa couldn't help but feel a form of satisfaction at her achievement.

Henrietta and Beatrice were accounted for and were probably behind her, which left Claes as the wild card. Elsa felt her breathing beginning to become ragged. Elsa was reaching the limits of her endurance and throwing Beatrice down the stairs was much more difficult than she had expected, even if it was only for a moment. She hit the bottom of the stairs and took off in a dead sprint, ignoring startled faces of guests as a filthy eleven year old girl sped through and out of their hotel.

Her arrival and quick departure in the hotel foyer drew more attention than she would have liked, but it couldn't be helped.

Elsa had found she had somehow ended up on a main road next to the river Tiber. Had she travelled this far already?

Ignoring the stares of startled pedestrians, Elsa glanced up and down the road and despaired.

To her right, the bespectacled Claes was advancing towards her purposely, her hand in her pocket, probably a taser or some similar item.

To her left she saw a certain man do a double take at her, then steel himself and begin doing the same, his fingers twitching. Seems like he had been going up and down the Tiber after all.

Behind her, Elsa heard the heavy rushing of feet. Beatrice and Henrietta had entered the foyer. A quick glance behind showed her Beatrice was lying about not taking her FAMAS along, just like she anticipated.

And on top of that her fatigue was catching up with her. Lack of drugs meant she drained her stamina more quickly than the other cyborgs, and she'd been sprinting hard along the rooftops for a good ten to fifteen minutes. She would likely not survive a confrontation with any of them individually, let alone their combined might.

Her right, rear and left were no longer alternatives for her.

That left one option.

Setting her eyes in determination, Elsa sprinted across the road, dodging through traffic to the surprise of pedestrians and motorists who were forced to swerve to avoid a crazy girl who had just imposed herself in their paths. As she made it across the road, a screeching sound followed by a loud crash was heard behind her, but Elsa paid it no heed.

Ripping off her jacket and rolling it up, placing gun and magazines and everything that would be ruined on contact with water inside, securing the bundle to her hands and making sure to hold the glass bottle at a particular angle, Elsa braced herself.

She vaulted herself over the side of the pathway into the cold water of the Tiber.

Elsa felt the water rushing up to her, she felt the coldness chill her to her bones.

Then her body began to sink...

---

Just under twelve hours later, Jean Croche walked up beside Ferro on the place where Elsa had thrown herself to her demise. When last they checked the GPS early this morning; her signal was still around that general vicinity, right under one of the bridges that connected the two halves of Rome.

They had been unable to search the area yesterday due to a massive head on collision between two cars causing the entire area to be cordoned, especially when one of the cars was propelled into through the glass doors of the hotel foyer by the impact. At least fifteen people were hurt in that disaster, including Beatrice, whose leg had to be replaced. Medical teams had swamped the scene, and the SWA were forced to leave until the following day.

This was the first chance they had gotten to investigate the scene, and Jean was confident it would not take them very long to do so.

What could that girl have been thinking? Cyborgs sank like rocks in water, she knew this. Even when it was low tide, Elsa must have known that she'd never be able to breathe at that depth.

She fought so hard, Jean was almost disappointed to see it end so anti-climatically.

"Hello Ferro. How goes the search?'

"We found Elsa's jacket snagged on one of the bridge pylons just like we thought. Her body shouldn't be too far away."

Jean grimaced. Drowning. What a way to go. Ferro nodded understandingly as she motioned to Alphonso below. Clad in full scuba gear, the large man waved an acknowledgement before taking the plunge to resume his search.

Suddenly a complication arose in the form of his cell phone ringing.

It was Lorenzo. "Jean, call off the search. The situation just became more complicated."

Jean turned his head in confusion. "What? Why? We found her jacket. It won't be long before..."

"The GPS says she just got on a bus." Jean was rendered speechless by Lorenzo's statement. "Shortly after we sent the search team out and stopped paying attention to the GPS, her signal started moving."

"What?"

"We didn't realize it only ten minutes ago. Right now she's in the bus interchange station." Lorenzo admitted gruffly. "We were too complacent. Hillshire and Triela are going to get to that station as quickly as they can, but by then she'll be long gone. More importantly, the Padania has attacked a member of the government. Fortunately they failed, but they've begun harassing government institutions throughout the city. We have to re-assess the situation, and quickly."

Jean closed his cell, a small measure of disbelief showing on his face.

"Jean?" Ferro asked as she noted his surprised expression.

"Call off the search." Jean said.

Ferro could instantly knew why Jean would order as such. Her mouth formed a thin line. "She survived."

Jean could only nod.

---

Elsa felt the water rushing up to her, she held her breadth as her body she descended to the bottom of the river. She had taken care to make sure she landed as close to the edge of the river as possible.

Taking care not to overturn the inverted glass bottle, Elsa began to scale the side of the stone river wall one handed, using anything she could get her hands on to propel her ascent.

It was low tide, but in the dense water were her arms and legs felt like lead, it felt like she had to scale a skyscraper. She had made it halfway when her chest told her she needed to breathe. Expelling air though her nose, Elsa raised the upturned bottle too her lips and breathed in.

It was a stopgap, and would only last so long, but Elsa could hold her breadth for a minute. Five minutes to scale three to five meters?

"...gah!"

With the help of that extra supply of air, Elsa was just barely able to pull her head out of the water after her bottle became too contaminated for continued use.

---

Elsa had not dared to move, knowing that if she did they won't think she had drowned. She spent the entire sleepless night trying to remain under that bridge, fighting the rising tide by climbing up the bridge pylon and using the wooden straw she had acquired to breathe.

That useless trinket she had sharpened as a makeshift weapon turned out of have its use after all.

---

Hours later, dark rings around her eyes and every muscle in her body aching from exertion, Elsa checked what had survived her night.

Her torn coat had only provided partial protection to her newly acquired weapon. From the looks of it, only two of the magazines and the one already loaded into the weapon were still usable. Her coat was in shambles though, and would make her too recognizable. The three combat knives were still usable. Only one roll of bandage was still usable, but both the bottle of antiseptic lotion had ruptured. This may be a problem in the foreseeable future.

It was at four thirty that she left the bridge, shortly before Jean's search team arrived.

Dripping wet, Elsa managed to steal some clothes' off someone's clothesline and, since she was off committing robberies, shook down a drunkard for money with her gun. Now she had clothes and money, if only a pitiful sum. It wasn;t long after when her brain had assessed the danger to have passed and her mental functions returned to normal.

She went to a public toilet, this one in one of Italy's bus stations to relive herself. Surprisingly, this one had some showers, and she took the full advantage of that detail. Thankfully it was mostly empty at that time, so aside from an elderly janitor, no one paid her much heed. It was five forty three in the morning when she towelled herself off and changed her filthy bandages.

Looking herself in the mirror, she found herself unable to recognize the person staring back at her. Elsa was slight disconcerted at the face staring back at her, eyes tinged red from the restless nights and face slightly gaunt from malnutrition. Donning the brown woollen sweater under the green leather jacket, and pleated skirt and stockings, all one size too big for her, Elsa was satisfied that although she was now more presentable, she was still inconspicuous enough to be unrecognisable.

Just to be safe, Elsa did her hair into one long braid and slipped the olive baseball cap onto her head. Never hurt to be safe.

She immediately left and had what constituted as her first normal breakfast in a week at of all places, McDonalds. She also picked up a newspaper, which she intended to use as cover should she need it.

It was to her dismay she saw her face pasted on the front page, or at least what use used to look like. Her sting of burglaries didn't go unnoticed, and her victims had cobbled a rather accurate picture of her. Eleven years old, greasy long blonde hair, aqua blue eyes...

She took the shadows more after that. Elsa was beginning to get slightly paranoid inspecting every face that passed by discreetly was if that person would whirl, around and identify her or worst yet, attack her. At least her shower had allowed her to freshen up, perhaps making her look smart enough that no one would recognise her from the photo.

"That shower was a good idea."

She still made it a point to get some hair dye later.

Her mouth also began twitch when she realized her former employers were probably having a field day with her face in the papers.

At eight ten, Elsa got on a bus to Sicily using the money she had acquired just as Jean found out she had survived her dip into the Tiber when the station was experiencing its morning rush hour to hide in the crowd. Taking the rearmost seat and carefully watching the people who entered the bus, Elsa released a breath she didn't know she was holding the bus door finally slid shut. Relieved and tired she set a cheap backpack she had bought down on her lap and took out a plastic bottle of water to drink, her parched lips gratefully accepting the droplets of water.

It was a wonder nobody paid any attention to her. But then again, she did act mature for her age and the lines on her face made her look older. The conductor seemed to have bought her drivel about visiting a relative in Sicily, so she made it on the bus without too much fanfare.

She replaced the cap and put the bottle back in her bag. Elsa settled into her seat uncomfortably, trying to ignore the burning sensation slowly creeping up her skin. Now that her adrenalin had died own, she was beginning to feel pain again. She really wished she still had those pain killers.

Pulling her olive baseball cap further down over her eyes, almost an hour later because she kept scanning the passengers for anything she missed, Elsa soon fell into a fitful sleep, all the while knowing that her ordeal would only continue to get worse from here...

---

Triela walked back into her dorm room after a harrowing day. As she had expected, their trip was a wasted one, Triela had wasted a full five hours of her life asking stupid questions and chasing up false leads... and digging through trash for a stupid filthy piece of cloth.

Elsa de Sica was long gone by the time the duo arrived. All she and Hillshire found out was that Elsa had gotten on a bus. Which bus? Hillshire wasn't able to find out. Elsa had jumped on one of the busy periods when traffic in the station was it its peak, so she could be on her way to Verona, Sicily or even on her way out of the country by now!

Triela loosened her tie and breathed deeply. This was really troublesome, especially with the Padania beginning to kick up a ruckus again. Lorenzo had temporally asked Henrietta and Jose to call off the search in favour of guarding a high ranking official. Beatrice, her backup was recovering from the car crash anyway, so another assassination attempt would be a long time in the making.

"Hey Claes, I missed her. I guess this means you'll have another mission again."

Truth be told, Triela was disappointed that Elsa had gone and done this. She may not have been close to the girl but Triela regarded all the cyborgs as her sisters. Elsa had fallen quite nicely into the quiet, anti-social relative-you-never-saw niche very nicely. Despite how rude she was to the other girls, Elsa did have a special place in all their… she couldn't say hearts, but the soft-spoken professional did have her place.

What she had done reflected badly on the entire dormitory. Triela had a half mind to go out there on her own and drag the Elsa bag kicking and screaming by her pigtails to take responsibility for what she had done. It was all what it came down to wasn't it?

Responsibility.

That idiot better be careful, once Triela got her hands on her…

Triela she noticed her roommate had not responded to her quip. Silence. Triela wondered what she had done to get the cold sholder from her roomate.

"Claes? Hey why the silent treatment? I know you're tired from yesterday but still..."

Triela curiously popped her head up over to look at the upper bunk, only to see a set of neatly folded sheets and a letter addressed to her lying neatly on the center of it, Claes neat orderly handwriting on the front.

"Claes...?"

---

Claes tapped her new PDA to draw up the GPS map as she settled down in near back of the bus and tried to look inconspicuous.

From the distance between the signals, Claes estimated that she was roughly six hours behind her prey, but judging from Elsa's fatigued look the last time she saw her, Claes knew the rouge would have to stop somewhere eventually to catch her breadth, giving the fully rested Claes time to close the distance. Pocketing the device, Claes took her medicine, and then withdrew a new book she had gotten from a souvenir store and began to read, one eye on the book, one eye looking out for anybody who might look suspicious.

The scientists had loaded her with everything they thought she would need for an extended trip and as long as she had her (brand new) Blackberry, Priscilla was just a phone call away.

Claes shifted awkwardly as the gun in her shoulder holster, the H&K HK45C pistol she had been specially supplied with and was admittedly not very inclined to use poking her ribs uncomfortably, Claes couldn't help but wonder who would care for her garden while she was gone.

---

A/N

Okay, this is the continuation of 'Mistake!' Round of applause everyone!

And can anybody recommend me a good weapon for Elsa now that she has ditched her Sig s229? I had her acquire a Walther P99 from Beatrice chambered for .40 S&W. I like its design and the fact Bond uses it, but seriously I should have more to go by than just that. As good as .40 S&W is, Elsa needs a bigger gun and a more powerful round since she's up against cyborgs. (EDIT - Forums and too much S.T.A.L.K.E.R. made me decide on .45ACP in a custom M1911 she snags off the youngest brother of an international crime syndicate boss. If it can put down a boar, it can put down a cyborg.) (EDIT-Watched too much Black Lagoon, now I'm Beretta crazy.)

This chapter was mostly action, the next will be focus more on character development. I have self discovery as a major theme of this story, with Elsa slowly finding herself now that she's free of Lauro. I have the ending in my head already. (EDIT-Ending's changed. But I still have it in my head)

IMPT - I've drawn up the epilogue already, and sent an e-mail over to another author, Person, requesting if I can feature his work in this story. Depending on his answer, i many have to change the direction of the story. (EDIT-Changed the ending, now in process of rewriting it)

---

Preview;

Elsa, now in Sicily tries to come up with along term course of action now that she has some respite. All the while the man known as 'Pinocchio' and the young girl named 'Claes' continue to track her relentlessly...

-


	2. nemo malus felix

Disclaimer; Gunslinger Girl is the property of Yu Aida.

---

**Act Two; nemo malus felix**

---

**Small Coastal Settlement, Sicily, Italy **

---

Elsa tired not to limp out of the bus when she finally arrived in Sicily. Despite the fact she slept the entire trip, she still felt exhausted. Her body had grown tired from using so much adrenalin and her mental state had returned to normal now that the immediate danger had passed.

Her body was in utter anguish. She felt like she would burn up in her warm clothes despite the cool night air caressing her cheeks. She tried not to wince at every other step now that she could feel pain again.

Elsa proceeded out of the bus station and found herself overlooking a peaceful coastal town. Keeping to herself and turning away any questions posed to her, Elsa made her way to look for accommodation.

She found herself glancing around at her surroundings periodically. Did she finally lose them? Was she able to shake her pursuers? She looked suspiciously at every possible face. Was that Jose standing right there? Was that Alphonso instead of a passing police officer? Was that small company of young girls that just walked by newer cyborgs that she had never met before?

She resisted the urge to tremble, and not from the cold.

Elsa picked a cheap hotel she overlooking the coast to spend the night in the shadier part of town. The receptionist a shrewd old woman was slightly surprised that she walked in, but as with these people, she took her money no questions asked.

The room itself was a sorry mess, a rickety old bed that had clearly seen too many years, cheap dirty bed sheets, a half working lamp and a cracked mirror. Elsa felt slightly appalled by the room, having 'stayed' in five star hotels with Lauro before. Still, she got what she paid for and this was at least a major improvement to the back alleys of Italy.

Still, just to be safe she wasn't mugged in her sleep, Elsa barricaded the door of her room with the loose furniture as best she could and rigged the door with a makeshift 'tripwire' and 'bell'. I someone tried to barge into her room, she would have at least some forewarning.

Not wanting to get her comparatively fresh new clothes dirty in the sorry mess that was her bed, Elsa stripped bare and folded her clothes into her backpack making a mental note to acquire spares soon as she eased her aching body under the covers.

It was cold. She usually slept in her undergarments, but her only set had been completely ruined by her jaunt in the Tiber and she had been unable to acquire new ones.

Despite her fatigue, it took a long time for Elsa to drift off to sleep, her mind haunted by non-existent sounds and the shadows of the room playing tricks on her mind.

She slept with the Walther P99 under her pillow that night.

---

In her dream, Elsa dreamt she was back in the park.

It was once again pitch black, and she was running.

Elsa dreamt she was being chased, searching for an unattainable means of escape. Her hand was clamped on a bleeding bullet wound at her shoulder. Elsa desperately sprinted though the endless forest, the trees seemingly going on and on forever.

Elsa's eyes darted around her path; she could only see trees, trees and more trees. Where was the exit? Suddenly something impacted her thigh and she fell face first to the ground.

She couldn't move her leg.

Footsteps. Someone was coming.

"Ahh… ahh..." reaching her arm out, Elsa pulled herself along the frozen ground. Escape, she had to run!

Suddenly powerful arms grabbed her and hauled her up. A shadowy figure she couldn't recognize had pulled her up to face level.

"Hello, de Sica." The voice sneered. Elsa instantly knew it was one of the SWA's cyborgs.

Panic.

Fight or Flight?

In injured leg; Fight.

Elsa smashed her forehead against the shadow's own with brutal force. The shadow released her with a yelp as both girls crashed to the floor. Elsa didn't wait. If shouldn't run, she would fight!

In moments Elsa was onto her pursuer, pulling herself within striking distance and straddling her foe, Elsa mercilessly assaulted her. Elsa drew her fists back and brought them down again and again. She could hear someone screaming.

It was her own voice.

She kept hitting the girl again and again. Until the body stopped moving. Or had it moved in the first place? After her initial attack the body gave no response.

Breathing heavily, the adolescent girl rested her bloodstained knuckles at her sides.

Suddenly she was blinded by light and she was hit in the chest.

Elsa's eyes widened as blood started to form around a small hole in her left breast. Looking up at where the shot had come from directly in front of her, she saw Henrietta lower her P90 expressionlessly, with Jose standing beside her nodding with approval.

"…why…?" Elsa whispered.

Henrietta motioned downwards at the body below. Elsa looked down, and saw the person she had just killed. The dead eyes of a blonde eleven year old girl with aqua blue eyes stared up back at her.

Herself.

And Elsa suddenly felt… gratification?

Elsa was horror-struck to know she had felt pleasure at slaying herself.

Before Elsa could respond, her skin caught fire. Instantly every inch of her being was immolated in flames. She began to flail her arms futilely or at least tried to. For some reason her body had locked into place, her arms and legs unable to move as the fires slowly consumed her. Her mind knew only pain. Her heart only knew fear.

She did not want to die like this.

The last thing she saw before her vision was consumed by flames was herself and Lauro, standing where Henrietta and Jose were moments before, taking each others hands and walking away, each of them smiling…

Watching the joyful scene, once which she could never have, disappear before her very sight was taken from her was the thing that tortured her even with the flames consuming her being. Elsa screamed.

---

Elsa found herself awake, her arms and legs flailing wildly.

When she realized she wasn't on fire, or had been shot, Elsa slowly managed to calm down. Looking up and down her body, she felt a small measure of relief that she still had all her limbs intact, although she noticed her makeshift bandages were in need of changing.

She did not have dreams. Her conditioning saw to that. But she wasn't on her conditioning now. She could dream again.

Still breathing hard, Elsa went over her vivid dream in her mind, trying to comprehend it. However as with most dreams, she could only remember the most vivid fragments of it. She did not like what she remembered.

It taunted her, the fragments she could remember.

The person she both hated and envied, Henrietta.

The dead body in her likeness under hers, slain by herself.

The vision of her holding hands with Lauro walking away with a smile on her face.

Lauro…

Elsa felt her heart tighten.

She hadn't given much thought to him recently had she? She'd been so focused on trying to survive that she hadn't have time to grieve over the man she had killed. Now that she was given some respite, however short, Elsa now had time to reflect over her deed and the consequences of her actions.

Lauro, he'd be so disgusted to see her right now. Curled into a ball naked in a dark room, hunted by her former comrades, he would disown her on the spot if he known she would amount to this. He'd been angry enough with her already.

Did they hold a funeral for him? Elsa was sure they did. As his killer, it would be best if she didn't go. Not that they would allow her. Not only was she his killer, he had often remarked about her uselessness. Even if she had not pulled the trigger, he'd never allow her to come to his funeral. Why should he? She'd failed Lauro time and time again. Then she went and shot him, in the back like some coward.

That was what she was, a coward.

While Lauro was dead she was still alive, running away from what she had done. The actions of a genuine coward.

Hadn't she disappointed him enough?

Well, she never mattered to him anyway. She remembered so clearly what he had said to her that night. The place that he had given her the name 'Elsa de Sica', held no significance to him. To him, she might as well not exist.

Elsa didn't know what was worse, Lauro recognizing her as the scum of the universe, or Lauro not acknowledging her at all.

And now that he was dead, did it even matter?

In the darkness of her room, Elsa curled into a ball and began to cry.

-

It was two hours later she when she woke up having cried herself to sleep. Elsa had managed to get four hours of sleep in the entire night. Compiled with her rest on the bus, it was a significant amount. Despite that, her body still felt heavy and her sight was still adjusting itself. Shuffling out of her bed, Elsa noted the torn curtain was letting some light into her room.

Opening the curtain window of her small room, the dawn morning light rushed through and she was treated with a gorgeous sight. Elsa had never before taken the time to admire her surroundings because she was constantly on missions, Elsa couldn't help but have her breadth stolen at the sight before her.

The slowly dawning sun had illuminated the slightly clouded pale blue sky and the light reflecting off the calm Mediterranean sea. The brilliant sun had illuminated the coastal town brining light where there was once darkness and also by the same token, cast creeping shadows to contrast the light it gave. Across the pale white and blue sky a flock of white seagulls were slowly moving across this picture of calm.

For the first time in her life, Elsa was stuck breathless by one of the simple miracles of Mother Nature.

"Beautiful…"

---

Unbeknownst to Elsa, by the time the sun dawned, she was not the only mechanical being in the Sicily.

While the rest of the Social Welfare Agency contemplated their next move, one cyborg continued pursuit.

-

It was a gamble Lorenzo had to take.

Despite the danger Elsa posed to his agency, their ongoing campaign on against the Five Republicans continued onward. As time marched forward, Lorenzo knew the Five Republic Separatists would not wait for them to resolve their internal problem.

Point and fact, while Henrietta, Beatrice and Claes engaged Elsa the previous day, an assassination attempt was made on one of the senior cabinet ministers by assassins. It was foiled by one of the other fratello teams, but it was a sore reminder that while their rogue cyborg was certainly a massive problem, it was not their only problem.

It became apparent that major operations like the one that failed the previously could only be taken once in a while. It was like a game of chess, both the Separatists and the SWA wanted Elsa. Yet the best way to do so would be to tap each other's resources while they simultaneously tried to capture her. And in that area, the sheer manpower and flexibility of the insurgents was a key advantage they had over the SWA.

Elsa herself was another factor. If they left her alone long enough, Lorenzo was aware she might be able to pull together a plan of action. Worst case scenario is if she contacted the international press and managed to tell her story to someone who actually believed her. Then the SWA would have an entirely different enemy, once far greater than their current ones; the general public and the international community. Checkmate.

They had to constantly keep her off balance, on the move. They could not allow her to properly devise any course of long term goal, then strike her down when the first opportunity presented itself. With the Five Republicans moving, they had missed their previously opportunity and now had to wait or another.

However, Lorenzo still had his 'tracker'. He would not allow Elsa to sleep well.

-

Claes would see to that.

-

A normal human, while autonomous, would be no match for Elsa even in a group. Now armed, Elsa's threat to a human agent was more apparent. Lorenzo decided it had to be a cyborg who would follow Elsa de Sica. Lorenzo had picked Claes for many reasons.

Although she was unable to use firearms and had not been on the field for ages, Claes was the only cyborg whose wealth of knowledge exceeded Elsa's skill. What Claes lacked in field experience, she had in theoretical knowledge in droves. Her access to her late handler's library hard allowed Claes to learn all the things to be completely self-sufficient.

Gardening, piano playing were some of the things she knew. Claes also happened to know medicine and first aid, basic physics, the theory behind many martial arts and had an encyclopedic knowledge of undercover tactics from reading too much Secret Service handbooks in conjunction with her Tom Clancy novels. If she could apply these in a real life situation, then she could just be Elsa's worst nightmare.

The fact that she seemed to be able to act on her own initiative without the need of a handler was a plus.

The SWA scientists were even thrilled with this prospect. After their initial reluctance to the idea, they realized it was a rare opportunity; the data from a cyborg operating on her own with only limited support and who was allowed to act on her own discretion was practically making them salivate at the mouths. Lorenzo did not share their sheer enthusiasm, but agreed that it was a necessary move.

Lorenzo didn't expect Claes to be able to take Elsa down, but he expected that Claes would be able to harass the rouge so badly that de Sica would have to sleep with an eye open every night for the remainder of her short life. Claes was also supposed to engage any sepratist agent, including Pinocchio, or anybody else for that matter after the rouge. Elsa could not fall into the wrong hands.

Maybe Claes lacked the combat experience of some of the other cyborgs, and Lorenzo knew it was a gamble, but Claes was really the only one who could pull it off. And Lorenzo's intuition told her that she could.

She had readily accepted the assignment, citing 'personal reasons' as her main incentive for doing so, and as such Lorenzo and the staff had outfitted her with the best equipment the SWA had to offer and sent her on her way.

---

**Rome****, Italy**

---

Meanwhile back in Rome, the _other_ tracker picked up the trail. Pinocchio was not too pleased he had been almost bowled over by an out of control car, but he had survived the fiasco by the skin of his teeth.

When Pinocchio had been ordered to track a rouge cyborg, he readily took to the mission with gusto. He had been honored that they had given him this assignment. He was the only one that his superiors thought was capable of beating a doll in a fight.

Pinocchio knew the extent of the importance of his mission. These gun toting dolls were tearing through their ranks and blocking their every move.

If one went rouge, it was the perfect opportunity to learn how they were made so they could better fight back and in the worst case scenario, make their own gun wielding miniature engines of destruction.

He and three others, a select few amongst their entire armed forces, had been given very explicit orders, capture her at all costs.

While they were doing this, his comrades would step up in arms to buy him the time he needed to catch up with her. Time they would likely pay in their own blood. While Pinocchio did not have many close friends among their number, he did feel the weight of responsibly now on his shoulders.

The problem was this little terror was proving rather resilient against their efforts and had escaped twice before his reinforcements could arrive.

Not to mention ruthless. Pinocchio did not think for a second that the 'car accident' was unintentional. He was forced to abort his search for a full day because of the chaos. Fifteen people had gotten hurt, two had died later in on the operating table.

The resolve she had on her face, the clear calculated move that had unfolded before his eyes… it ha to have been a calculated move on her part.

Julius, one of his teammates, reaction to that? "Damn, she's ruthless. Pino my man, no wonder why she gave you the slip."

Pinocchio did not see the humor in that.

She had evaded them, him to be more specific, twice already and Pinocchio was finally beginning to realize that this was likely going to be the toughest assignment he had ever undertaken in his entire career as an assassin. However failure was not an option.

Tony, another teammate, dialed the phone for their contact in Sicily to organize a search team with any off duty members they had there. It was amazing how much faith their comrades; his father Christiano in particular, had placed in them, so much so they could just make one phone call and anywhere from one man to a small army that would come to their aid. It was a boon Pinocchio knew not to take lightly and would only work in Italy.

Besides, he worked better on his own anyway. The other members of the team of trackers generally had the same modus operendi. They preferred to work alone, but for now, they had to work together. The Republic was counting on them. His father was counting on him. Pinocchio would not fail them.

The consequences if he did were too dire to think about.

---

**Small Coastal Settlement, Sicily, Italy **

---

Elsa shuffled out of her room, meager belongings now in her backpack, and checked out of the motel. Staying in one place was far too risky in her opinion and she did not feel safe in staying in one place too long, especially now that the legitimate police force was after her. A good move would be to first get out of the country, but the rouge knew that was a monumental task in itself.

She limped out of the hotel, claiming she had stubbed her toe earlier and was still feeling the pain, when in actual fact her leg wound had started to act up. The receptionist also expressed worry to the at the young girl's red face. For a hardened woman to say, that, Elsa realized she must have been in a very bad way.

"I think you have a fever, you really should see a doctor."

Elsa just nodded her head and tired not the pain show on her face as she left the building as quickly as she could.

She was having a 'fever'. The worst part was Elsa knew that it was only going to get worse if she didn't get some medication to keep her body temperature down soon, Elsa knew she would be in very big trouble. Speaking of that…

Checking her mostly empty wallet, Elsa resisted the urge to wince.

"…oh…"

She needed money.

-

Elsa now had money.

While wandering around the lovely Sicilian coastal town, she came across a shady looking group of people huddled in one of the darker alleys of the city. She almost brushed past them without paying them too much heed had she not noticed that one of the men seemed to be injecting a syringe into his arm.

The drug trade.

The illegal drug trade was a serious problem the adults in the Social Welfare Agency often discussed with the cyborgs. As one of the Social Welfare Agency's chief enemies was the local mafia, who often drew their funds from both arms dealing and illegal drug dealing.

The Agency and consequently Elsa herself had participated in operations against these activities numerous times in the past, often having to attack and interrogate the lowly dealers to gain information that lead to individuals or locations more crucial to the industry that was a cancer to the country.

So when Elsa realized what she was looking at, the rouge cyborg couldn't believe her luck.

She did admit privately disturbing for them to be in this peaceful town, a testament to how badly the problem had sunk its teeth into Italian society, but at the same time she was grateful. That crime ring was going to be her lifeline.

Trying to hide her limp, Elsa walked into the alleyway up to the three men, her brain assessing the threat as a minor one. Her combat state did not kick in fully and only suppressed her fear slightly, much to her annoyance.

"Hey look, it's a kid." One of the men, the man in a long coat carrying a suitcase said. Probably the dealer. The other two were young adolescent boys who clearly had gone off the rails somewhere along the line with their shirtless bodies, tattooed arms and dyed hair, who were currently in states of ecstasy.

It was odd though, Elsa immediately noticed something different about the man, but could not put her finger on it. She kept it in mind as she approached him.

Elsa did her best to look like a drug addict in desperate need of her next fix. Elsa had done it before as part of a sting operation her fratello team had carried out, but in her current state she wasn't sure if her acting skills were up to par.

She needn't have worried. Elsa looked so terrible from her withdrawal symptoms; they immediately assumed she was exactly what she wanted them to think.

Gathering up every bit of acting skill she could muster, Elsa spoke. "I need stuff." She rasped out. Elsa was surprised at her own voice.

Was she this de-hydrated? She hadn't drunk anything since she woke up when the bus arrived yesterday, and her body was heating up. Compounded with the fact she hadn't had breakfast yet, and had skipped dinner, Elsa was quite parched.

The man grinned and walked up to her. He opened his suitcase to show the young girl this stash. Elsa leaned in to get closer to him and to maintain her cover, and much to her relief found that the case was mostly empty. The dealer had just finished making a big sale, which meant he must have a lot of money on him.

"You're in luck kid. I gots one needle left. It costs…"

"I meant your money." Elsa drew her gun before the suited man realized what was happening, jabbing the weapon into his face. "I want your money. All of it."

The man stiffened and a disbelieving smile came across face. His eyebrows could clearly be seen to have risen over his sunglasses. "Now, now, little girl, put the gun down. Little girls like you shouldn't play with guns."

A slight movement of the position of his feet. He was going to try to snatch her gun out of her hands. Elsa didn't let him have that chance, quickly angling the gun to his ear and blew it off. He fell to the ground clutching the bleeding stump. She then remembered that gunfire was loud. Elsa berated herself, she'd made a dangerous mistake.

"Arg! My ear! You bitch you shot my…!"

How odd. He was speaking in English. Not dwelling on the matter and time now against her, Elsa kicked the man harshly in the stomach, silencing him by taking his breadth away. She threw a furious look at the semi-conscious teenage boys that were looking on at her in horror.

"Leave."

They didn't have to be told twice. They ran further into the alleyway screaming at the top of their lungs before Elsa could utter another word. She cursed. Why did they have to be screaming? As if her gunshot hadn't been enough to draw local the local authorities.

The young cyborg dropped to her knees and, after kicking him again for good measure, quickly patted the man down knowing time was of the essence, locating this stash of money in several rolls of green bills. Her mouth began to twitch as if trying to smile at the weight of the wad of money in her hands.

She'd never held this much money in her hands before.

She also relived the man of a very ornate looking custom made Colt Model 1911 from his gun holster and two spare magazines of ammunition from his belt. Elsa made a mental note to inspect the weapon in more detail later when she had more time. She turned the weapon in her hands. A gun enthusiast with a custom made weapon. She hoped it was more practical than just to look fancy.

Why a Colt Model 1911 though? She was sure most Italian gangsters preferred more modern firearms…

"…won't get away with this…" the man wheezed in Italian.

"I'm afraid the police would like to speak to you first." Elsa said, before taking the one remaining drugs of his suit case, and then injected him with his own merchandise. His eyes widened in horror at what she had done. His eyes dilated and he stopped struggling so much. Good.

When the authorities caught up with him, he'd likely to either have written the entire episode off as a wild dream or if he still remembered her, would not be believed by the police for being under the influence of drugs when they arrested him.

She stored her loot in her backpack and quickly exited the alleyway as discretely as possible, moving with both speed and discretion,

It was only after she was ten blocks away did she feel safe enough to slow down. She hoped the police would be too busy apprehending the man to come after her. Little did she know that attacking this man, the youngest member of the Forelli family, Elsa had set in motion a series of events that would cause her much grief in time to come.

-

One of the first few things she had done with her newfound wealth was get new clothes, the closest activity to a regular eleven year old girl she had undertaken in a long time.

Elsa hid her backpack in a secure location, with her weapons and gun holster inside, before going into a bargain basement clothes shop. The shop assistants were very helpful, especially after she played up her image as a very independent girl. Just as long as they didn't ask too many questions, Elsa reasoned.

She declined every attempt to get her into the changing rooms. She'd have a much difficulty trying to explain where all her injuries came from. Elsa specifically selected a set of baggy clothes at lest a size larger than her own. She never knew when she might need to conceal another injury. She also bought one set of tight fitting clothes in case she needed to move quickly.

Right after that, it was on to the pharmacy to restock her depleted medical supplies. Getting bandages and painkillers was one thing, but Elsa didn't dare touch some of the other more powerful drugs despite the growing pain she was experiencing. She had a feeling her cover would not hold if she tired something like that, drugs often required legitimate ID to buy, and Elsa wasn't sure if their customer database was being monitored.

Overly cautious? Perhaps, but she still seeing Rebpulic and SWA operatives in everyone, so she knew it would be a good idea to play it safe while she still could.

Still despite her wild spending spree Elsa found she had just over ten thousand euros remaining. By making repeated trips to her hidden backpack, Elsa was able to maintain the illusion she had much less money than she actually had. For now she was just a young girl enjoying a day off instead of a desperate runaway cyborg that had just shot and drugged a man.

In short her shopping escapade went without a problem.

An hour later, far, far away from where she had mugged the drug dealer, Elsa was having a much needed breakfast at a peaceful seaside café. Elsa ordered a large helping of bacon, eggs and toast. Food was necessary to keep her strength up. The cheerful young waitress took her order and soon she had a large helping of food before her, with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice on the side.

She couldn't help but discretely check the food and drink for poisons and sedatives. Elsa realized she was getting a bit paranoid, but decided it was for the better. She enter knew when the SWA might strike next.

She almost jumped when a soft clink reached her ears as a steaming cup of coffee was placed on her table. "Here! On the house." It was the waitress. "Man, those are some dark rings around your eyes. You really need this kid."

Elsa eyed the cup suspiciously.

The waitress laughed as Elsa lifted the cup and inspected it like it like it was a threat. "It's not poisoned! Just drink it."

Elsa debated the dilemma. She'd never drank coffee before because with the conditioning, she'd never needed caffeine before. More importantly in her current state, what would it do to her? Her immune system was likely to have been weakened severely and was not used to this drink. It might have an adverse effect on her.

She brought it to her nose and sniffed. What a horrible smell!

This was surely a test. If she did not drink it, she would look suspicious. If she did, it might just kill her. Elsa wanted to scream in frustration. What if the waitress was an operative from the North? What if this coffee was a new drug that would incapacitate her?

What if…

"Oh for the love of god, here!" The fifteen year old waitress grabbed Elsa's wrist and tipped the cup forward. Elsa, caught completely off guard, could only widen her eyes in horror as the liquid slipped into her mouth…

Suddenly the unfamiliar taste of black coffee touched her tongue. Unused to the bitterness of the drink, Elsa was sent reeling. "Gah!"

"Aha-hahaha! Man you're a cute one!"

-

"So the name is Misty." The waitress said.

"…Elisabeth." Elsa said quickly.

She wasn't foolish enough to use her real name, not with so many ears around. But Elsa still felt that it was too close to her heal name; Elisabeth and Elsa both derived from the same meaning 'an oath to god'. The connection was vague. But it was there.

"Elisabeth… that's German right? A good name for a girl like you."

Elsa frowned. "Why are you taking such an interest in me anyway?"

"I don't know. You seem like a really independent girl. Figured that since my shift's over I might as well swap stories. The name's Misty."

The fifteen year old girl held out her hand, waiting for Elsa to shake it. Carefully, Elsa did so. "You're pretty shy aren't you?"

"…more or less."

"Well I'm also guessing you aren't from around here. Visiting family? Vacation?"

"…more or less."

Misty gave a resigned sigh. "Not very sociable are you?"

"More or…" Elsa stopped. This was the kind of thing that made her look suspicious! Mentally berating herself, Elsa rephrased her answer. "No, I'm not."

"Well I want to give you a heads up. I saw you wandering around on your own just now…"

Elsa tensed. Had she been so caught up in her own thoughts that a passerby on the street could see her? Elsa felt sick to her stomach. She begun to mentally pray that nobody had seen her in her carelessness.

"…and give you a heads up."

Elsa tired to keep her voice steady. "About what?"

"We're undergoing a war here." Misty quietly explained with a hint of anger. "A gang war. One of the American crime syndicates has decided to retake Sicily as a symbol of their 'growing power'. The local families are putting up a stiff fight, and it's occasionally spilling into the street. As if we didn't already have the little war between the rebels and the Governmental forces to worry about."

Elsa was unsure how to react in this situation. American crime syndicate? Gang war? Her mind quickly flew to the Colt Model 1911 in her bag and it clicked. No wonder the man looked different; he was one of the American criminals.

"Just be careful okay? There guys are a lot more aggressive than local Mafioso. Try not to anger them if you meet them, okay?"

Elsa nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

-

After talking to Misty about various other topics, despite the conversation being rather one sided, Elsa took her painkillers and soon the pain in her limbs and skin subsided. Elsa had no idea how long this effect would last, but until then she would not take this for granted.

Bidding the redhead farewell, Elsa revisited the shopping district to acquire some general items as well as groceries, this time trying not focus too much on any one thing at a time.

Elsa shook her head in displeasure at her own paranoia.

She had been too paranoid. That was what allowed Misty to so easily catch her unawares and get her to have a first taste of coffee. And she was a _civilian_. Unacceptable.

Caution was good, but not so much until her thought process was so inhibited. It was not as if the Social Welfare Agency Would try and attack her at every turn would they? Of course not.

She needed to relax and get her thoughts in order. She had time didn't she?

Unexpectedly the hairs on her back began to prickle and Elsa's eyes widened. Suddenly her mind kicked into its crisis mode and her thoughts cleared… a sign she was in danger.

So much for time.

The assumption she had just made had been proven wrong. It seems like the Social Welfare Agency were fully intending to attack her at every turn.

Just thirty paces before her and drawing ever closer, eyes locked with hers, was a certain bespectacled girl who was under very specific orders to do just that…

---

**New York City****, New York, United States of America**

---

Mario punched the desk of this table in frustration. "So you tell me, that some son of a bitch mugged my brother, blew his ear off, injected him with our own shit, and then left him bleeding out in an alley way for twenty minutes until the cops arrived?"

"Yes don. Joey wanted to get some hands on experience and went himself." The voice on the other end of the phone replied. "We told him not to, but…"

"Never mind. I know how he gets. That stupid fool." Mario cursed sadly. "I knew his idealism would get him in trouble one day." The crime lord rubbed his temples. "Okay, Mac. Stay there and make sure you bail Joey as soon as he's out of the ICU."

"Gotcha boss. Should be find the bastard and deal with him?"

Mario grit his teeth in barely suppressed anger. "No, this son of a bitch attacked a member of the family. _My family_. It's only fair that we pay him back in kind."

The tone on the other end became quiet, a save the sound of a sharp intake of breadth. 'Personally pay him back in kind', that could only mean one thing…

"I'm calling Valentine in Rome. She's been rather agitated lately; her work has dried up since the local family pretty much caved in. She did gut their boss like a fish. I think carving up this poor bastard will be just the thing she needs to calm down and get some steam of her chest."

"…That poor bastard…" Mac whispered softly.

Despite himself, Mario laughed darkly. Yes, this was overkill, but his second youngest sister was the self proclaimed queen bitch of the Forelli family. If anyone could make the fool that had harmed their brother die in a slow painful manner it was her.

"I'll call her now and arrange the flight, just make sure you pick her up Mac from the airport."

"Geez, I hope she doesn't take my head off."

"And this… resistance has gone on long enough. I want you to mobilize the death squads. Sicily falls. Understand?"

Mario didn't wait for an answer, knowing that his word was law. Those Italian fools, this was why the families in the new world had to take charge lest their own homeland fall to the other contenders such as the Yakuza or the Triads. It was a matter of family pride more than anything else, both in avenging his brother and taking control if Italy, Sicily in particular.

As Mario made the necessary arrangements, he couldn't help but find a small measure of pity for his brother's assailant even through the rage and fury he felt. Valentine would turn that little asswipe into perforated swiss cheese, probably while she was high on cocaine and laughing.

That was what she was best known for.

---

click

"Tony, it's me Misty. I found her. She was in the café a while ago and had breakfast, just left."

"Really? Did you drug her?"

"Of course not. My sources tell me another doll just got in town; she'll need her head if she's going to stay in one piece until you guys get here. More importantly, you might want to hurry. The shit hit the fan Tony. Some guy with a death wish just blew off Joey Forelli's ear and pumped him full of heroin. The Forelli's are going mad and prowling for blood!"

"…crap. We're still two hours away on car."

"Well you better get here quick, this place is going to be a war zone by sundown if the Americans are anything to go by. The police are holing themselves up in the station. Government dogs didn't even warn the populace."

"Take cover yourself Misty. We can survive a gang war, you can't. Take cover with all the others, they'll protect you. We protect our own."

"What about you? I'm receiving calls by the minute and it all looks like the Armageddon is upon us."

"We have a job to. Come hell or high water we're gotta do it, even if it means wading headfirst into a warzone.."

---

---

A/N

Finally, the chase itself! Outside of the main attempts on her life, this cat and mouse game is going to be the main story arc, focusing on these three central characters (the other three pursuers are just 'mid-bosses') and how they pursue their goals and thwart any other comers, the first of which is mafia hit woman Valentine 'Scar-head' Forelli.

Claes reasons for pursuing Elsa will be in the next chapter, but as one of the three central characters, you can bet that she will get her spotlight!

As per Danjo3's suggestions, I've tried to strike a balance between Elsa's super spy and the ten year old self. Caused by her deprivation of conditioning, and inspired from the whole David Webb to Jason Bourne device, Elsa's altered brain chemistry has created a very particular phenomenon in Elsa's brain. Now with a measure of her free will returned to her, Elsa act more like a regular girl when not in any immediate danger, but when a threat arises her altered brain chemistry will cause her consciousness to 'change' and thus have mind uninhibited by notions like fear or pain or _morals_ when in a life or death situation.

Still haven't worked out the full mechanics yet, but the brain chemistry only kicks in instances of _actual _danger rather than _perceived _danger. This way, we can still have super spy Elsa and 'oh-my-god-what-do-I-do-now' Elsa. I plan to merge these together at some point, where Elsa can initiate the change at will, but it wouldn't be anytime soon.

I did a calculation and assuming there are four chapters for each major clash location and several one chapter intermissions, 'Marked' should be just under twenty five chapters in length. I've finalized the ending now that Person has given me the go ahead and some suggestions. It's so morbidly dark that I think everybody reading it is going to hate me once I post it. You're going to wish Elsa had killed herself in 'Mistake', I guarantee it.

As a note, I'm considering getting/begging for another 'proofreader', one who is more knowledgeable in the Gunslinger Girl world to check for technical inaccuracies as opposed to grammatical/spelling mistakes. Also I worry about characterization and it' would be good to have someone to bounce ideas off against in private.

-

-


	3. bis in die

Disclaimer; I do not own Gunslinger Girl, it is the rightful property of Aida Yu.

---

**Act Three; bis in die**

---

A/N Blind rage version has now been implemented. I am announcing my need for a beta reader who is familiar with GSG to prevent this embarrassing incident from ever happening again.

---

**Small Coastal Settlement, Sicily, Italy**

---

"I'm very sorry about this Esther." Andreas Eisenhower comforted his daughter as he straightened out her school uniform.

The young six year old girl nodded in understanding. "Don't worry papa, you've got work."

"I'll be home soon enough. When I get back, we'll go to the park and see that movie at the theatre just like I promised."

"Promise?" Esther Reine Leone did not really understand why her father was suddenly called back to work on his day off. However being a single father their mother had left them, the child at least knew her father was a very busy man and often had to spend long hours in the office to support her.

She didn't really know what her father did as a living, but she knew he worked very hard and often had to leave for days and even weeks doing his job. He even left Ester on short notice with the family handmaid 'Rosemary'. He always came back very tired.

Esther wasn't very sure about many things, but she knew her father worked very hard for her sake, and that was enough for her.

"Promise." The man held out his hand to the girl. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear!" The little girl shook on it.

--

Making sure the door was closed securely behind him, the German born man who had married into the Leone family went down the driveway to meet his brother in law.

"Andreas, so you ready to leave?" Carmine asked, having seen Esther go by.

Andreas nodded. "Yeah."

"You sure it's a good idea for her to go to school?" Carmine questioned.

"Safer than in MY house." Andreas shrugged

The tension between the two men was from the time where Mary Leone had broken with tradition and married a charming German trouble shooter under the employ of her father.

Naturally this did cause an uproar at the time, but Mary was a headstrong girl.

Although birth of Ester, a darling child everybody seemed to love, had mended the rift between Andreas and the godfather, Tybalt Leone, the relationship between Andreas and Carmine, Mary's protective older brother and another ranking Leone, was still strained. However Andreas was too good an asset to the family to discard, and he was officially part of their family with approval from the head.

The two men stepped out the front door, Andreas giving the house retainer Rosemary a slight nod on the way out. "So, what's your initial assessment of the situation Andreas?"

"We are in a bad way." The German noted. "The Forelli's have been gearing up for this for weeks. They have resources we couldn't even begin to draw upon. It's so one sided it's not even funny."

For the last few years, the Leone family, the traditional rulers of the east Sicilian underworld had been under ferocious attack from invaders from abroad. Ironically the invaders were parts of their own bloodline that had fled across the Atlantic during the old days, and had now returned to reclaim their ancestral homelands.

While other great families and syndicates had simply folded under the pressure and struck deals, the Leone's were not one of them. Tybalt had stood fast against the money grubbing Mario Forelli, refusing to compromise his integrity for the sake of profit and perhaps even survival.

The situation was very tense.

"The only thing that was stopping them from blowing us to pieces was Joey Forelli, who is now in a hospital ward recovering from his scrape with the law. This is an insult the Forelli's cannot ignore."

Carmine nodded gravely starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. "I have a half-mind to find the idiot who did this and wring him by the neck myself. So, what are we going to do? They have us outgunned and outnumbered, and my old man still won't budge."

"It's too late to negotiate, not with Joey Forelli having been mugged like that." Andreas stated calmly. He took one look at his house, his home, in the rearview mirror of the car and answered. "If they want to fight, that's what we have to do Carmine. This is our home. We don't have a choice."

---

For a brief moment, Elsa considered drawing her Walther P99 on the spot and firing at Claes right then and there. But the street was crowded, and if she just pulled a gun and started shooting, all she would do is hit other people, wasting precious ammunition and put her face on the national paper again. Enough people were looking for her as it was.

Claes was moving slowly though the crowd, eyes trained on her. The crowd was possibly the only thing preventing the other cyborg from whipping out a weapon and initiating a fierce gun battle.

This was bad. Claes was the cyborg that she knew least about. Elsa had worked with Henrietta and Rico before and most other cyborgs including Beatrice and Triela often frequented the firing range while she was there, but Claes was but enigma to her. She had observed the other girl from afar and had drawn her own conclusions that Claes was harmless, but the mere fact that Claes was even here meant that many of her conclusions must have been flawed.

Elsa didn't know if the bookish cyborg was alone or with company, but she didn't intend to stick around to find out. Turning around, Elsa began to walk away at a steady speed, keeping a close eye out for any other cyborg that might want to attack her.

Elsa did a sniper's roost check. There were three places that a sharpshooter could be stationed. She could just picture Rico sitting comfortably on some far-off lofty place training her SVD onto her head…

Since the shot hadn't rung out, Elsa safely assumed that there was no marksman and that Claes, and whatever allies she had, were on foot.

Elsa was reaching the end of the shopping arcade, meaning the crowd would begin to thin out. Turn around and make her way back into the crowd? Too risky, Claes may have a concealable melee weapon with her, a poisoned knife perhaps and it would take a simple motion when they passed each other for it to end. And she still did not know if there was any backup.

She quietly turned into an opening into the backstreets, and kept going into the darkness. The soft footsteps behind her signaled Claes was right behind her.

Elsa snaked through the backstreets trying her best to lose her hunter, but to no avail.

Then Elsa walked right into a dead end.

---

"_Remember, you are to engage Elsa de Sica and put pressure on her as often as you can. If the opportunity presents itself, _capture_ her or _terminate_ her, but remember to retrieve the body. However if it gets too dangerous, you have full authority to retreat. Are we clear on this?"_

"_Yes sir."_

"_Claes press _any_advantage you can. Elsa is by far a superior combatant in terms of experience. If you give her a chance, she _will_ turn the tables on you if you are not careful. You have the knowledge, but you lack the adaptability and experience she has."_

"_Yes sir, I am well aware of that."_

"_I am sure you are. With any luck, your time in the field will slowly correct that problem. Good luck."_

---

Claes turned the corner and saw Elsa, back towards hers, staring at the blocked passage in front if her. It seemed the folly the blonde had just made had stopped the blonde in her tracks in surprise. Her glasses were already tucked nicely into her breast pocket.

Claes had come specifically to pick a fight.

"Hello Elsa." Claes greeted.

"You were the last person I expected to see out here Claes." Elsa responded, her fingers twitching. She could draw her Walther P99 in moments but was fearful that in this situation, with her back to Claes, she would be the one at a disadvantage if it came to a draw.

"I know. I was rather surprised myself."

"What's the mother hen doing so far from her roost?"

Both cyborgs were stalling for time. In a quiet street like this, there was no fear from being overheard.

Elsa did not know what Claes was capable of. She had tagged the bookworm as harmless, having never seen the girl with a gun. But Claes was _here_. Elsa knew Lorenzo was no fool, and Claes wasn't going to be the one chasing her if she was truly harmless.

Claes on the other hand knew exactly what Elsa was capable off. However she was mentally preparing herself for, from her perspective, the first ever combat situation she would enter into in her career. It was a daunting prospect, even for a cyborg assassin.

Claes was genuinely amused by the choice of words. "I have my reasons. I never considered myself to be a 'mother hen'."

"When you don't associate yourself with a group, you tend to see things from an objective view." Elsa explained. "You help them when you can from the shadows, carry whatever burdens with whatever small support you can muster…"

"I never considered you to be an outsider." Claes interjected.

There was an irony in that, from a certain perspective, it could be said that both Claes and Elsa watched life in the dormitory go on without them.

While Elsa refused to associate herself with the other girls on her own choice, Claes was often forced to watch them come and go on missions without her, never being able to influence what happens in the field. The main difference between them was one was an outsider on her own chose choice and the other was a prisoner of circumstance.

"But I did. And that is the only opinion that matters." Elsa said. "Which brings me to the question, why you Claes?"

"Why me? I honestly don't know myself." Claes admitted sincerely. "I guess it was seeing Henrietta's reaction to hearing about how you went rouge that made me come here. But I know what you did was wrong, and I know you have to take responsibility for it."

Elsa snorted. "You harmed my sister and now I'm going to make you pay for it. Its that it?"

For all the rouge knew, Claes was but stalling for time and an overwhelming six 'Fratello' teams were just moments away. Given the useless bather that had been exchanged, this was likely. Elsa had to get away, but with Claes blocking the only exit, this was unlikely.

"And responsibility? Is that the conditioning, or is that your own opinion?"

"It does not matter." Claes declared. "What matters is you are too dangerous to be left unchecked de Sica, not after what you did to _Lauro_."

It was a low blow and they both knew it. But it had the intended effect.

Elsa flinched, allowing Claes to charge in, a sharpened knife she had been issued by Section Two in her hands.

What followed was a flurry of motion as both girls went into melee, with Claes briefly having the upper hand. Claes was surprised at her own ability with the weapon, weaving in and out of Elsa's weak couterattacks like a seasoned veteran. Was she ever this good?

They were equally matched. Elsa hadn't had time to draw a weapon of her own and was forced to duck in and out of the flashing blade, occasionally taking a swing at the girl with her fists.

"How dare you use him like that!" Elsa retorted, attempting to retain her footing despite her reeling mind. In what appeared to ba an act of desperation, Elsa grabbed a stone of the road and hurled it at Claes.

"Perhaps so!" Claes replied, ducking under the thrown missile… into Elsa's fist. "Gah!" Claes was thankful she wasn't wearing her glasses, for they surely would have shattered with the impact.

Elsa smirked. "That's for insulting Lauro."

The two girls recovered and returned to squaring off. Claes had a knife, and Elsa had made the mistake of forgetting to take one of the three blades out of her bag, her faith in firearms misplaced.

What followed as a rather even show of fisticuffs and knives. Elsa couldn't fight back too well, and Claes pressed her advantage.

Of course, Claes hadn't been in the field for months, and naturally she made a misstep.

Elsa the more experienced combatant being able to slip between the knife swipes Claes made and put a solid punch into the raven haired girl's abdomen. Sending Claes reeling...as if in slow motion her glasses flew out of her pocket and bounced across the pavement a distance away.

he saw it unfold like some horror move before she hit the ground on her back.

"Besides…I wouldn't expect you to understand, Lauro was my important person. You've never lost your handler before_…_"

On the floor, lifting her eyes as the awful barb tore at her; Claes lifted her eyes and found them drawn to a pair of glasses lying haphazardly on the floor... a crack lining the smooth surface of the right lens.

Her glasses had been damaged.

In retrospect, Claes could never tell what triggered it that day, the sharp words or witnessing the eyeglasses so insulted like that, but when asked about what happened in time to some, Claes would always remark… "Something snapped."

Inside Claes a memory stirred.

An old frustration the conditioning had kept below the surface began to bubble to the surface. She saw red.

Malfunction.

The situation changed.

Claes lashed out with her feet so quickly that Elsa couldn't react. The blonde let an astonished gasp as she was sent crashing to the ground. Elsa was so surprised in the change of Claes' tone her defenses momentarily faltered.

She had just got onto her knees when Claes delivered a vicious kick to her stomach.

Without saying a further word, Claes laid into the unwitting Elsa like a demon possessed.

Elsa was having a tough time focusing on the fight, if she could call rolling on the ground as her tormentor just kept striking her 'a fight'. Her inattentiveness earned a long deem gash in her left palm as Claes literally opened a bloody trail across its length. "Ahhh!" Rolling out of the way and back onto her feet, Elsa clutched her bleeding hand as the blood slowly oozed out. "W-What are you-?" Elsa was silence with a kick to the cheek.

Regain balance! Get on your feet!Focus!

Her logical mind kept screaming over and over again, to no avail.

It was hard to focus when Claes was kicking her repeatedly in the gut. Between the bloody streaks on her skin left by the knife, Elsa felt she was being slowly clinically being dismembered by a far more skilled adversary.

Likewise, Claes was surprised at the viciousness in her own actions. She had no control over her own body and she felt like she was watching the merciless beating unfold from outside her own body. Where was this rage coming from?

A streak of blood, and a new wound was opened up on Elsa's abdomen, blood soaking through her clothes. Elsa was sure something broke when Claes felt the need to kick her against the far wall like a soccer ball.

Watching the person who had damaged her precious glasses writhe on the ground in agony, Claes found she felt… satisfaction.

The normally peace loving girl was horrified to know that harming another living person, even if it was Elsa de Sica, was bringing her satisfaction.

"S-S-Stop... Claes..." Elsa wheezed out.

When did Claes get so fast? When did she get so aggressive? Elsa's mind was beginning to become physically and emotionally drained, slipping out of her focused state.

Clas, still watching her body move on its own, felt the need to throw up when her body robotically walked over and drove her knife downwards on Elsa. Had the besieged cyborg not sacrificed her own forearm to the blade, it would have ended up in her chest.

Too tired to scream as the blade was forcefully pulled out of her bleeding arm, Elsa began to think that Claes was going to be the end of her.

The blonde cyborg tried to roll away again but was viciously kicked in the forehead, flying a few meters into a wall and sliding down with a moan. Elsa doubled over in pain coughed up blood. "Cl... sto... why...?"

A part for Claes, the small part that was still sane, began to become afraid as she watched herself decimate Elsa.

Was this what she was capable of?

Claes desperately wanted to deny she was doing this, the blood on her clothes, the coldness in her eyes. She wasn't a machine. She wasn't as monster.

It was had to say that to herself as she felt the distinct sensation of herself advance on Elsa to deliver the finishing strike.

Elsa on the other hand was beginning to become consumed by despair. Claes was too good in melee… and where were the other cyborgs? They could be here any moment!

In desperation, she reached into her jacket and pulled out the Walther P99, and a knife was promptly driven into her abdomen. "Ahhh!" Elsa released the grip on the weapon. The Walther P99 clattered against the ground.

Claes had driven the knife into Elsa's stomach.

The raven haired bookworm was so horrified at her own actions... she had been stabbed before so she knew the anguish that Elsa was going through. How could she so heartlessly inflict this pain on an...

...wait...

She'd been stabbed before?

-

"_Be a good girl."_

-

The unexpected happened.

Much too her own surprise, Claes felt her body just cease functioning and she toppled forward... and her fingers relaxing on the grip of her knife. Not as in she filched, made a misstep or hesitated; her entire body suddenly went slack as all the muscles relaxed instantly.

Why?

Claes didn't understand, but was overcome with a sense of relief… she promptly blacked out.

Total shutdown.

Elsa used this opportunity to throw off the girl, grab her fallen weapon and leave this horrible place. Elsa didn't even bother to eliminate Claes while the latter was unconscious. All she wanted was to get out of here and tend to her wounds. Hands clutched on knife still embedded in her side, Elsa prayed that no serious damage to her internal organs was incurred.

The blond cyborg began to limp away from her comatose foe.

---

It was much later in the day when Ester was skipping back home, whistling softly to herself as she walked the familiar stone path to her home.

The neighborhood she lived in was a quiet one, and despite the high crime rate the ten minute walk from her house to the school and back wasn't too long. The young girl was clueless when she saw the a black sedan that was now parked in front of her house.

"Visitors?" she mused. Esther opened the front gate and stepped in. "Rosie? Did papa bring visitors?" Oddly, the front door was ajar. Esther poked her head in…

-

Rosemary was lying slumped against a wall, her blood pooling at her feet, breathing shallow, an antique revolver lying at her side. A man in a grey overcoat stood poised above her his gun about to end the wounded woman's life.

Esther let out a soft shriek.

Both adults turned to her.

The man whipped his silenced pistol about, about to put a bullet into Esther's head when, even though she had 9mm rounds lodged into her chest, Rosemary tackled the man to the floor. The bullet went wide.

"Esther, RUN!" Rosemary screamed.

Even though the six year old girl hadn't seen such a scene in her life before, it didn't take more than that to have the brunette turn around and flee the scene while the family retainer grappled with the man for his weapon.

Esther was out of her hands now.

Despite her wounds, she won. Rosemary, an ex-Sisde agent who turned rouge, wrestled the Beretta 92 from the assassin grasp and put two into his face. However he did not come alone. The two accomplices had walked back into the hallway just as they saw their leader go down with half his face missing.

They opened fire, and Rosemary fell against the floor in with too more bullets lodged in her abdomen. Rosemary knew with wounds like these, she was a goner. Despite the fact she now had over eight bullet wounds, the woman had one last duty to perform.

"Shit, she got Larry." One cursed.

"Goddamn it, we still have to find the Leone kid... Mark! Grenade!" The hitman exclaimed when he saw, far too late, what the retainer had pulled from her dress.

With a victorious smile, Rosemary let the grenade roll out of her hands and onto the floor as her vision dimmed. The there was light.

---

It did not take very long for Rosemary's sacrifice to be heard of and the discovery the men dispatched to the Eisenhower residence had been taken out.

With a grenade going off, how could they not?

Esther Reine Leone was crucial to suppress the only real asset the Leone family had, her father Andreas Eisenhower, a Thompson wielding nightmare who who would surly coast them their fair share of loyal thugs.

Although victory was still a sure thing, the Forelli's valued the lives of their men, especially those who were part of their elite 'Death Squads', as a major assent. Throwing them needlessly to stop one man when it could be avoided was something were keen to do.

Esther had not run very far when she was attacked by a second squad sent to apprehend her. She escaped into the back alleys of the town. She used her familiarity with the town to put distance between herself and her pursuers, but she was still a six year old girl against four heavily armed gangsters.

It was only a matter of time before they caught up with her.

Esther wondered how it had turned out this way. It was just another normal day for her. Go to school, come home, play with her daddy and Rosemary and then go to sleep.

Why was this happening to her?

She continued to run through empty back streets as four heavy sets of footsteps could be heard behind her, never before being so terrified in her life.

---

It was round this time when the Forellis launched surgical strikes at various locations around the small town. As Andreas had predicted, the local Leone family was badly outgunned by the might of an international crime syndicate.

The Leone gunmen were hopeless outgunned. Their weapons were hopelessly outmatched by the high powered assault rifles wielded by the mercenary 'Death Squads'. Each Leone outpost was reduced to a scene of the aftermath of a senseless bloodbath.

The local populace had not been warned, the governmental forces choosing instead to hide themselves from the inevitable storm. What could they do? Simple policemen in a small town, against the heavily armed professionals of an international crime syndicate who were armed with the most lethal weapons in the illegal arms trade?

Yeah.

And so, sporadic gunfire broke out all across the coastal settlement, the civilian masses running for cover and barracking themselves in their homes.

All the while, a small girl stumbled through the back alleys of the city, searching for a haven to rest and tend to her bleeding wounds, the knife in her side still throbbing agonizingly.

--

"ah-Ahhhhh!" Elsa screamed as she pulled the knife from her side. Quickly applying the antiseptic cream, the wounded girl wrapped fresh bandages around her waist.

It seems like Claes missed anything major, but it still stung like nothing other. Elsa had tended to all her physical injuries that were inflicted by the skirmish with Claes. Her mental ones, she did not expect to sole for a long time coming.

She hadn't just been defeated by Claes, she'd been completely mauled. And it hadn't even come to a fight with guns yet! If Claes had sliced her up like a piece of meat on a dinner plate, what would someone like Triela do if it came to a fight?

And her weakness. She had been lying on the ground begging for her life as Claes mercilessly carved her to pieces. Her arm still stung, and although she had patched it up as best she could, the painkillers old had so much effectiveness.

Elsa also comprehended she had missed a great opportunity to finish off her adversary. After having left the scene, Elsa had realized there were no other cyborg pursuers and Claes was on her own and thus vunerable.

Instead of being enraged, she found only desolation.

And what of her limbs? With all the damage they had taken, she knew their integrity would drain sooner or later. Although these ones were 'new' Elsa was aware carbon fiber muscle and bones could only sustain so much wear and tear before needing replacing. How long would that be? Treila had one set for a full six months, but would she even last half as long?

Elsa had messed up.

"How am I going to survive…?"

Elsa despaired. She drew her knees to herself.

"Lauro… help me…"

--

Claes groaned as she pulled herself to a seating position, having regained consciousness long after Elsa had left.

Claes supposed she was lucky this time, deducing that Elsa had presumed that other 'Fratello' teams were en route and had fled the scene without bothering to finish her off since her sudden shut down had rendered her a small threat. Had the rouge realized she was alone, Claes knew her mission would have come to an abrupt end.

Claes shuffled over to where her glasses had fallen and observed the large crack that now ran the length of the entire right lens… "Why did this cause me to go beserk? I've never lost control before..."

Claes had never really given much tought to her glasses. To here, they were just THERE. Yet now she was beginning to suspect that something more must line between the wireframe and glass that made up the simple eyewear she took for granted.

She placed them back on.

"Why did I lose it like that?" Claes mused to herself.

Why indeed? She prided herself in being the most level headed of the cyborgs of Section Two, and had been thinking clearly until Elsa threw that barb. Then it was like she was a different person, wounding Elsa again and again as she tore the smaller girl apart with a knife.

As a gentle person by nature, Claes could not stand to see such behaviour, from anyone, let alone herself... She had acted in a manner so brutal and methodical when her body automatically began moving on her own. It truly frightened her to think she was capable of such things.

She felt anger frustration and sadness fuelling her actions.

Why?

A part of her had now awoken a part of Claes that wanted to know why she had reacted in such an extreme way to such a small incident as the cracking of her glasses. She felt that a part of her was now damaged, much like her glasses, and that something that was right before was now missing.

Like Elsa days before, Claes didn't know why a new path had appeared before her, but she knew that she would follow that path until she reached the truth, her truth.

Toting the long scar that now ran the length of her vision, Claes suddenly remembered that she had the memory of being stabbed before.

Then Claes heard the sound of distant gunfire.

"What?"

--

When Elsa heard the sound of a dozen assault rifles going off in the distance, she knew better than to stick around.

Snapping herself out of her revere, Elsa forced herself to her feet. Something was happening. She didn't know what exactly, but blatant gunfire never did bode well. She found herself limping off into the dark alley. Reaching into her backpack, Elsa popped a single fast acting painkiller into her mouth and swallowed.

She made it a point to get some morphine; it would be far more effective than pharmacy level painkillers.

Stumbling through the endless dark alleys was a terrible experience, especially when she knew Claes could be lurking around any corner. Her eyes darted around wildly. Was Claes there? No, couldn't be… but what if she was around the next corner? What if she was behind her?

Her breadth caught in her throat.

Elsa drew her Walther P99. No point in being cautious of someone was out there shooting what sounded like a ten sets of M16 Assault Rifles off.

Especially if her nerves were like this.

Then as Elsa rounded another bend, she collided into something. Instinctively Elsa gabbed the object and whiled it around pinning it to the wall with one hand with her weapon pointed directly at it with her gun hand.

"Nooo! Please! Please!" The six year old girl who was being held by the collar screeched in terror holding her hand in front of her face protectively. Elsa had lifted the girl a few inches off the floor because of the height difference. She had a nasty gash across her forearm and there was blood leaking from a wound on her collarbone. "Don't kill me!"

"Are you with the Agency?" Elsa questioned the force behind her questions fueled by her own fear and desperation. She pressed her gun up to the girl's temple. "Are you with the Agency? If you lie to me I'll shoot!"

Logically, a six year old pigtailed brunette could not be a cyborg. Even though 'harmless little girls' were the choice subjects of the Social Welfare Agency, there was a limit how young their subjects could be before size, or lack of it, became an issue. And even if they somehow did, technology had not advanced to that stage yet.

No to mention the fact the girl had wet herself when Elsa had begun pressing the Walther P99 against her temple had proven she had not seen even half the things Elsa had done. The worst of all was the begging. "Please! Please! Don't kill me!"

Elsa debated on the merits of putting a bullet into this girl. Then a shot grazed the stone off a building next to her.

"Found the Leone girl! She's here!"

Four men in black suits came charging down the alley, armed with three M16A4 rifles and a Remington 1100 shotgun. Elsa did not recognize them as wither Separatist or SWA since they looked American. One of the men brought the powerful weapon to bear.

It didn't take that more than that for Elsa to designate them a threat.

The blond cyborg tossed the squealing tot to one side and immediately addressed the threat posed by the four men in her expected fashion.

"Hey, that kid's got a gun!" One of the men exclaimed in English.

What a thing to say as your last words. Elsa squeezed the trigger.

--

The fight took place around a T-junction in the back alleys, with Elsa hiding behind the corner with the gunmen in the open alley.

She had just been mauled by Claes... and to her surprise, taking on four adult men was a much easier task by comparison. Although they had high powered rifles, Elsa was a career cyborg assassin. Thugs like them didn't hold a candle to her.

Elsa determined that the one with a shotgun posed the greatest threat and her opening move before diving for cover was to put two into his right lung. What followed was a long drawn out firefight amidst the screaming of one terrified little schoolgirl who was coincidently hiding next to Elsa by a unfortunate choose of cover.

It was the first time Elsa had to engage in a proper gun battle without getting hit. Unlike the other times, Elsa knew any injury she sustained could not be mended by Dr Bianci.

Bullets ricochet off the stone walls. A waste basket was blasted to pieces. A frightened scream could be heard in one of the buildings, but nothing came of it. Elsa had earned a small cut to her cheek while shooting one of the men.

"Ahhhh! Ahhhhh!" The girl kept screaming. Elsa was sorely tempted to shoot the grade schooler just to stop the wailing.

Elsa was getting increasingly annoyed. "Will you just shut up!" Thus far she had succeeded in putting down two of the remaining gunmen and now had one last person to contend with. Suppressive fire tore at the side of her cover.

It seemed appropriate that this person was the last one. This one was the squad leader.

There was a slight pause in the shooting; her enhanced senses could head him reloading his weapon. Elsa crouched low and popped out, just as he poked his head out to continue firing.

Headshot.

Elsa gave a small satisfied smirk.

Lauro would be proud. She'd finally done something right for a change.

Holstering her weapon and ignoring the whimpering of the girl behind her, Elsa walked over to check her mystery assailants were dead. The man with half his head missing didn't need a check. So did the gut who was missing the back of his head.

Elsa did a mental ammunition count. She expended an entire magazine and a total of nine shots to finally put all four men down, leaving her with only fifteen rounds of ammunition for the Walther P99. That was not good.

No pulse. Elsa removed her fingers from the third man. That just left the Shotgun wielder. Elsa calmly walked over to the large burly man and crouched down. She brushed aside his overcoat… "Kevlar…!?"

Mistake.

Although he had been knocked out by her opening shots, the big man had reawoken just in time to see the last of his squad mates go down. He was far from happy at that and wanted some payback. Elsa, reacting too late her miscalculation, was suddenly grabbed by the big man and thrown against the ground. He punched her once to knock her breadth out of her before he pushed his entire body weight onto her as as his hands tightened around her neck.

"This one is for my friends you little bitch!"

Had this been another time and place, Elsa would have easily thrown off the larger man and proceeded to beat him to death with his own severed arms. But this was an Elsa who had just been mauled by Claes, and was lacking in more than just physical strength.

Because of what she had just endure and the shock in her system, Elsa could do little than to beat at his tree trunk arms weakly.

Her mouth gasped futilely for breadth.

Her hands clawed at his arms desperately.

Her throat made rasping sounds as her body thrashed wildly under the massive body.

He vision began to dim, his murderous smile the last things he saw before her vision was reduced to static.

She was dying.

She was dying.

Elsa was scared.

…Lauro… help me…

…I don't want to die…

-

A gunshot rang out.

-

The one round flew off into the air and broke a flower pot on one of the second story buildings. The gun buckled so wildly in Esther's hands that she was knocked on her rear.

Esther hadn't really expected to hit anything by firing one of the dead men's pistol things, but it had the desired effect. So surprised was the gangster that he relaxed his grip for a moment as his head whipped about to her, forgetting about the thrashing blonde below him.

It was his last mistake.

He had turned away from the older girl long enough for her to quickly reach into her jacket and draw her gun. When his head turned back, he came face to face with a pair of outstretched hands holding the instrument of his doom.

With fearful eyes and gritted teeth, the girl emptied all the remaining rounds of her magazine into the man's face at point blank range. His body toppled over backwards and slumped against the ground stilled.

Calm.

Esther dropped the pistol she had used, cautiously approached the other girl hands still outstretched with her finger still on the trigger of the smoking gun.

Her eyes were wide; there was a splatter of blood on her face.

Her hands were shaking.

Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes.

"Um… Are you okay?" Esther tired warily. The schoolgirl was confused. One moment, she was bout die by this girl's hands, the next she owed the girl her life, and vice versa.

The Gunslinger Girl dropped the gun and then threw herself into Esther's arms, the arms of the one person she had met in over a week who wasn't out to kill her, and burst into a frightened wail. Unable to help herself, Esther did the same. Despite being five years apart, they were both children.

Two girls, blood, sweat and dirt on their bodes, surrounded by dead corpses under the watchful eyes of the setting sun, cried in each other's arms after staring death in the face not once but twice in the span of a few hours… and winning.

It was a reminder that, at the end of the day, Elsa de Sica was but an eleven year old girl whom had been wronged by the world.

--

Pinocchio stepped out of the Mercedes Benz at the same time as his comrades.

"Ah hell, we're too late." Juilus cursed. The sounds of multiple gunfights breaking off throughout the town in the distance could be heard from where they were. "Sounds like all hell is breaking lose over there."

Juilus was in his mid thirties. His shaggy long hair and rumpled shirt reflected his attitude towards life. As did the Model 500 Smith and Wesson Revolver he wore openly at his hip. He was rarely ever seen without a smoke in his mouth.

Tony snapped his mobile shut. "Just got off the phone with Misty. The Forelli's have begun their assault on the Leones. It's a bloodbath, but the Leone's aren't giving up without a fight."

Tony was a large man in his early forties. Completely bald and clean shaven, he was an intimidating figure. Unlike Julius who was rather casual in his dressing the balding man was in his usual pressed black suit. A professional to the core.

"Shall we wait until it's over?" Julius proposed. "It's the Forelli's we're talking about. It shouldn't take them too long to wipe out the Leone's."

Pinocchio shook his head. "It's one of the government's dolls. I wouldn't put it past her to get involved in that fight now that she has a gun."

"The kid has a point." Tony affirmed. Pinocchio raised an eyebrow. Kid? Well he was their youngest member, so it did stand they would call him a kid.

Julius scoffed "Does his opinion count?"

"He's met her twice before, which is more to say than the rest of us."

Cecil was the defacto leader of their group. A seasoned ex-IRA operative who just wouldn't retire, Cecil had found new employment in the Five Republican Separatists after being on the run from Interpol for ten years. Red hair in a ponytail, a casual suit, and sunglasses, everything about the man screamed 'veteran'.

"We go in. If she ends up in a ditch somewhere, we're the ones at a disadvantage since we don't have a GPS and they do. Best we are the ones to put a bullet in her." Cecil's accented voice declared.

Julius sighed and drew his wheel-gun. "I guess that's how it's gotta be." He pointed it out at the direction of the city as the sky began to turn red in the evening hue.

"Bang!'

--

---

---

---

A/N

Like I said earlier, playing hard and fast with Canon here. I sure hope it doesn't come back to bite me at a later date. Claes' 'viciousness' is the product of her long held suspicion that was suppressed by her conditioning as well as her unconsciousness anger at herself at having being reprogrammed. Elsa was just the unfortunate outlet.

This is also the most cliché chapter I have ever written in my life. Well it seems to work, so there.

I also went back to fix this massive gaping plot hole regarding Elsa's discarded coat that was staring me in the face. I think It's sorted out now, but I'll have to go over it again.

Also fixed the Eyeglasses problem. I had initially wanted to have Elsa step on them (accident) to make Claes go berserk, but decided against it, the glasses would be gone and so would Claes sanity... I settled on a compromise. Implemented the blind fury version, where Claes just goes imn and beats the tar out of Elsa. It's better than the old taunting version (unrealistic and OOC). However, I would like to repeat my plea for someone who is familiar with the GSG world to help me prevent myself from embarassing myself like this again in the future.

This will be my last update in a while, something unexpected just came up... my Grandmother is coming over I think... so I'm putting this up while I still have the chance since she's going to be at the forefront of my life for a while. I probably won't have another update for the next two weeks or so... enjoy in the meantime.

EDIT - WILL be coming now MIGHT be coming. Jeez, these plans just change so fast my head hurts. I wish I knew whether my Dad will let me know what exactly are the travel plans. I guess I'll have to see who gets of the plan tonight.

Man, Elsa is gonna end up a pincushion at the end of this.


	4. ex silentio

Disclaimer; I do not own Gunslinger Girl, it is the rightful property of Aida Yu.

---

**Act Four; ex silentio **

---

---

**Social Welfare Agency HQ, Italian Countryside**

---

When news reached the Social Welfare Agency that all hell had broken loose in a small Sicilian town, Section Two was taken completely by surprise.

They were in the middle of planning their counterattack against the Five Republic's new offensive when word reached their ears, from Claes no less, that the local crime lords had just been attacked by some unknown force. An armed conflict was destroying this small coastal town.

The fact that this small coastal town happened to be the Croche brother's hometown was of further concern to them.

What Claes reported over her phone shook them to the core. Bombs had gone off. Bullets were flying. The civilian populace and the police were in the shelters. It was a war zone… and wayward assassin was right in the middle of it… with a knife to the gut.

Further uploading the video recording in her cybernetic eye to them as proof, Claes had pretty much shocked the SWA into action.

Bernado summed up the situation in a few choice words. "Is there any kind of trouble that girl can't stumble into?"

Praise for Claes' unanticipated efficiency aside, Lorenzo knew the Section Two had to intervene. Phoning in, a rather amused Draghi had asked quite jokingly of they wanted to join the fun since the Carabiniere was all to willing to let this die out on its own. Lorenzo had replied an affirmative.

It didn't take them long to mobilize three fratello teams via a Section One helicopter to respond to the crisis. Jose actually sprinted into the helicopter once he was ready, mechanical body right behind him. Treila and Hillshire came right after them, Amadeo and Pietro in full riot gear rounding off the mission team.

As much as Jean wanted to join them, leaving their flank unprotected against Padania, especially after three new death threats had been issued, was something Section two could not ignore.

Their objective was to minimize the casualties to the civilian populace while attempting to aid Claes in further attempts to recapture Elsa de Sica, who was by now probably bleeding out in a ditch somewhere.

Even though they were flying straight into a war zone to fight heavily armed gangsters and make another attempt to recapture Elsa, Jose could only say one thing…

"I just hope the house is still intact when we get there."

---

**Small Coastal Settlement, Sicily, Italy**

---

The house was silent.

The quiet Sicilian home that overlooked the small town was completely still. It had not been lived in for years, its owners far away conducting business on their own accord. Now only used as a holiday home, it was rarely frequented, leaving nothing but silence as company for the tranquil furniture and framed photographs immortalizing happier times.

The moon, now high in the heavens, was the only light that illuminated this dark place from the clear glass windows, casting long shadows across the rooms and corridors. So tranquil was this moonlight, flickers of dust could be seen drifting though the air.

Despite its lack of occupation, the building was rather clean, a family friend having diligently maintained it while the rightful owners were away on business.

Amidst the sounds of sporadic gunfire, echoing explosions and dying screams in the distance, this home was a place of calmness and tranquility.

It was a place of peace.

Or at least it was.

A shadow fell across one of the small windows and obscured the reflected moonlight…

Thump!

The soft sound of an elbow impacting with a window was heard. The glass, having been secured with adhesive tape beforehand, did not shatter outright. Instead, the shattered fragments of glass were quietly removed from the newly made hole by peeling back the tape, making a hole in the window.

A handed reached through the hole and grabbed the handle, easing the wooden window frame open.

It was a place of peace no more.

-

Elsa pulled herself through the open window, quite pleased with herself. The duct tape technique that she had read in those training manuals actually worked!

Creeping quietly over to the door as not to wake any potential residents, Elsa quietly opened it, reveling a six year old brunette waiting patiently for the door to open. "Hey…!"

Elsa held up a finger to her lips. No talking until she checked the building. The child nodded and hurried in while Elsa closed and locked the door behind her.

As soon as her companion was in safely hidden behind the kitchen counter, Elsa shouldered her newly acquired M16A4 Rifle and thoroughly checked all the rooms of the abode for any signs of habitation.

To her relief, the dwelling was uninhabited, its owner out of town for some unexplainable cause. Had there been occupants, Elsa had intended to have secured them at gunpoint, a troublesome exercise she did not want to go though.

Because it was dark, Elsa did not clearly see the faces in the numerous photographs displayed in the living room. Had she paid more notice to them, the limping cyborg would surely have vacated the premises without a moments' thought.

Breathing a sigh of relief Elsa went back to fetch her companion and savior. They had not learned of each other's names as of yet, necessity and survival taking precedence as they fled through the streets until they could find a safe haven to recollect themselves.

Why had she allowed herself to take this girl with her? Elsa didn't know herself. Could it be the basic human need of companionship? Or was it the concept she had heard so often from the adults… camaraderie formed when they had saved each other's lives?

Elsa tried not to dwell on it. What matted was that this girl was the first person she had met that she was certain she could trust.

"The house is empty. You can come out now" Elsa announced quietly. The brunette crawled out from behind the kitchen counter.

Taking care not to turn on too many lights as to let anyone know the building was inhabited, Elsa and her companion relocated to one of the bedrooms where Elsa began to sort through the weapons she had taken off the suited men. She needed to know what exactly what assets she possessed.

A stinging sensation went up her arm causing Elsa to wince.

She also should take some painkillers; her last dose was wearing off.

"I want to take a bath." Her companion said suddenly. "I found some clothes in the room that I think will fit me."

Elsa debated herself on the merits for a while. If she took a bath, then she would need lights which would attract attention. But on the other hand the young girl looked tired, and her morale was severely lacking. A short shower and a change of clothes should freshen her up.

Elsa herself was tempted to take one as well. "Go ahead. Try not to make too much noise and be quick, I'm not sure how much time we have."

The small girl nodded and left.

The older girl returned to checking the weapons she had taken off the dead bodies of their assailants. She had expended her Walther P99 save for a single magazine, and had discarded it because of the weight needed to carry her new weapons.

The trade off was more than worth it. Elsa had pulled a pair od Beretta 92FS handguns off the corpses with ten fifteen round magazines now settled in her backpack to replace the discarded WaltherP99. More importantly Elsa now had a primary weapon, the M16A4 Assault Rifle, albeit with only two magazines.

She wouldn't be able to conceal the rifle when she continued her foreseeable escape from Italy, but until she made it out of this town alive it was adequate protection from Claes and the warring criminal families.

And of course, there were the grenades.

For a bunch of suited thugs, those men were fairly well armed.

Neither she nor her new companion knew who the suited men were for certain, but Elsa suspected they were from the American mafia she had been warned about. Elsa wasn't sure why the girl was being chased, but she suspected not even the brunette knew.

"I'm done." The girl stepped back into the room, dressed in simple pleated skirt and button up shirt that were several sizes too big for her.

Elsa didn't look up from where she was securing two Beretta magazines to her belt. "I see."

"Shouldn't you take one yourself?" The girl suggested. "I know you don't think we have much time, but you look terrible."

Elsa pondered this for a moment. She realized she felt very tired and weary and her whole body ached. However the fact Claes could be minutes behind them was a constant worry in her mind.

The brunette held out a white and brown schoolgirl's uniform she had dug out of one the cupboards. "This should fit you." The young brunette gave a fatigued smile. Elsa caved in.

A shower would be good.

"Okay, just a second, I need to set up something first.

--

The refreshing cascade of water showered down on Elsa's skin and the cyborg exhaled deeply.

When she had disrobed out of the bloody clothes she had stolen in Rome, Elsa was taken aback that she had so many wounds. Now that she could see herself was unclothed, the full extent of all her injuries was apparent. From the time her day began to this moment, she could count no less than ten new bruises and one major laceration in her side.

She also noted her wounds weren't healing well.

Elsa almost slapped herself. Of course they weren't. They were meant to be replaced if they were damaged, not to heal on their own. Elsa was just thankful they were healing at all. She did find herself slightly upset knowing that most of these injuries would scar.

Elsa flinched at the warm water ran over her newer injuries.

It then dawned on her that her entire body was fatigued. Her muscles were aching, her eyes stung, her joints felt worn. She really needed this.

Allowing the warm water to wash away the sweat and dried blood, Elsa closed her eyes and allowed the water to rejuvenate her weary soul.

--

Elsa had just finished reapplying her bandages over her wounds, when her enhanced hearing picked up a soft crunching sound coming from the living room.

"Damn."

Not good. Elsa quickly threw on the fresh set of clothes her new cohort had provided her, fastened her gun harness and throwing the green leather jacket, the only piece from her pervious outfit she chose to retain, over the white school uniform.

Before she chose to take her shower, Elsa had quietly shattered all the light bulbs in the abode and sprinkled the glass shards on the ground. If someone entered the house, stepping on the shards and making a noise would be unavoidable because of the lack of lighting.

From the sound, Elsa knew exactly who it was that had entered this place.

She had brought her weapons and backpack into the bathroom with her in case something happened. Her cautiousness was not unfounded. Slinging the stuffed pack onto her back, Elsa primed the M16A4 and crept out into the corridor, careful not to step on any of the shards herself to give away her location.

For the third time that day, Elsa's heart was pumping in anticipation.

The corridor was dark and empty, with the pale blue moonlight peeking through the windows and giving the corridor just enough illumination that Elsa could make out vague shapes.

Elsa silently and swiftly retreated back into the bedroom where her companion was folding a spare set of appropriated clothes from the abode and placing them into a rucksack she had found in the storeroom. The younger girl had not taken to the idea of stealing too well at fist, but Elsa's solid arguments and her need to survive had won out eventually.

The young girl threw a questioning glance at Elsa tense state as the older girl retreated into room.

Elsa quickly made her way over to the girl and whispered into her ear. "Company, we're leaving."

---

Claes hissed when she realized that her quarry had laid an alarm. The crunch on the floor and a quick glance down, and Claes realized that the entire floor of this living room and main corridor had broken glass shards on them.

Following her investigation into the source of the gunfire and contacting Headquarters for reinforcements, Claes returned to her original mission, finding Elsa de Sica.

The lone cyborg had moved cautiously through the backstreets to avoid drawing attention to herself or getting caught up in the numerous gunfights that were taking place throughout the settlement. As a result, Claes had fallen behind.

For a moment Claes eared that Elsa had slipped though her fingers. Her PDA, however, had alerted to her to the fact that Elsa had stopped in a Sicilian home. She seemed to have holed herself inside, most likely nursing the grievous wounds Claes had wrought upon her. It was a simple matter to catch up now that the target was stationary.

Now that she had finally caught up with Elsa, Claes was more than eager to finish what had been started, so eager in fact she had alerted her prey to her presence.

Having lost her knife to Elsa earlier and still reluctant to draw her gun, Claes went into the kitchen and armed herself with… a meat cleaver.

Claes grimaced at her selection. "I'm just lucky Triela can't see me now."

Her roommate would never let her live this down if this episode reached the spunky cyobrg's ears. Claes the homebody, armed with a meat cleaver.

Well, it was better than charging Elsa head on with nothing more than an iron skillet.

Crouching low, Claes heard shuffling in one of the main rooms of the house. Was she trying to escape through the windows?

Claes edged herself around the wall so she could peer into the main corridor…

All she saw was the pale moonlight filtering though the windows. Keeping her profile small and her body ready to move, Claes advanced down the vacant passageway. She noticed one of the rooms lights were on, with small yellow lights peeking through the crevices under the door.

Elsa couldn't be that stupid.

Trap?

Claes tightened her grip around the knife as he crept over to the door, watching her step to avoid the glass fragments on the floor. She made it without giving away her position.

Her back to the wall, Claes took a noiseless deep breath. She placed a hand over the door knob and nudged the portal open…

Click.

When she had opened the door just a fraction of its rotation, Claes heard the sound of a pin being pulled. Claes recognized the sound instantly.

"Shit."

To her knowledge, it was the first time ever that she had ever swore.

Truth be told, she didn't really care.

Claes pivoted on her heel and sped down the passageway, trying to put as much distance between herself and the booby-trap she had just triggered as possible. Claes had just managed to leap into the air and land behind the kitchen counter when a tremendous roar shook the building.

Her petite form sheltered behind the counter, Claes covered her ears just as the grenade's incredible shockwave and flying debris blew the humble Sicilian abode of the Croche brothers to pieces.

--

The two runaways were halfway down a flight of steps after escaping through the windows when the explosion signaled that the trap Elsa had set was triggered.

Despite being a 'safe' distance away, or at least safer than Claes was when the pin was pulled the duo instinctively threw themselves against the ground as the shockwave reached them.

Then silence.

Elsa poked her head up, and brushed her long hair out of her face. She had been unable to braid her hair on their escape, and it was now getting in her face.

"I didn't think that would actually work." Having only read the theory behind the tactic, Elsa couldn't help be amazed at her own achievement.

Her companion looked at her in amazement and measure of fear. "Did you just… kill someone?"

"Don't worry." Elsa assured her friend, "If that's who I think it was, she won't die from something as simple as a grenade trap."

Elsa did hope that the bespectacled cyborg felt that though.

--

Claes kicked off the debris on her. Pulling herself to her feet, she coughed trice to clear her lungs of the dust that now permeated through the air. Floating dust clouds obscured her vision and the floor was littered with blaster fragments of wood, plaster and steel.

"A grenade. Where on earth did she get a grenade?" Claes muttered darkly.

It was fortunate she knew what the pulling of a grenade pin sounded like. If she hadn't she might be lying in several pieces right now.

Scanning the area, Claes was relieved to see the battered abode completely empty. She checked herself for injuries and found to her relief she was just bruised in her shoulder. For a moment, even she was impressed. Cyborg resilience was truly astounding.

Dusting off pieces of glass and other smaller debris that clung to her clothes, Claes was relieved to find her Blackberry and PDA were intact. Flipping open the PDA she noticed Elsa's signal was moving away at a steady pace. She could still catch up!

Rushing to the balcony of the room where the grenade had detonated, she made it just in time to witness two shadowy figures moving away her the blasted house into the night. Two?

Then her Blackberry rang. "This is Claes."

"Claes this is Jose. We just arrived."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Tracking Elsa on her own was more of a chore than she thought. No matter, with reinforcements, the rouge should fall…

"… rendezvous at the coordinates I'm uploading to your GPS right now, it's a safe place where we can plan a course of action. Jose out."

Claes nodded to herself. "Understood sir, Claes…"

-You have arrived.-

Claes blinked. Flipping open her PDA, Claes found much to her alarm, that the blown out apartment was the residence Jose had uploaded to her. Cautiously walking back into the apartment, Claes was horrified to discover the remains for the living room were littered with broken photo frames, many containing the faces of two brothers she saw often at the SWA.

The ceiling fan chose that moment to dislodge from the ceiling and fall into the singed carpet floor.

"Shit."

To her knowledge, it was the second time Claes had swore in her life. And truth be told, she couldn't really care about that either.

---

Much later that night two men scoured the east side of the town.

Pinocchio followed Julius as the two men wove through the empty back streets, tying not to be noticed by the warring factions. With all the non-combatants taking cover in their homes, anyone caught outside would stick out like a sore thumb in the city.

The Americans were slaughtering anyone who hadn't taken cover in a building, Pinocchio had come across a grim sight of three bullet riddle bodies of young school children lying on a sidewalk. As sickening as the sight was, Pinocchio and Julius pressed on.

"Better them than us." Julius had remarked bitterly. As much as Pinocchio was unsettled by those works, he agreed.

A distant explosion echoed in the distance, followed by the rattling of automatic weapons in the street two blocks down. The two men moved near an opening into one of the main roads.

"Jeez, these guys are making house calls to everybody even remotely associated with the Leone's." Julius observed as he poked his head out from the alley to watch a black van pull next to this restaurant with six armed men run out. "These guys ain't fucking around."

"Keep your head down." Pinocchio hissed as he yanked the older man back into the darkness and forced them into a lying position.

The abode the six men ran into was illuminated with brief flashes of light and loud gunshots. It was obvious as to what transpired within.

"Hey, chill!"

"If they see us, they'll be all over us." Pinocchio sated lowly.

Julius shrugged. "Hey if they start shootin' I'll have something to do."

Pinocchio glared at the older man in anger. The group of four had split up when they arrived in the besieged town to cover more ground, traveling in pairs instead of alone for protection. Pinocchio was slightly put off by this since he preferred to work alone, but understood Cecil's reasoning.

However his partner was severely testing his patience. "We can't take on these death squads, not with what we're armed with…"

"Says you." Julius snorted. "I can take on all'o them. no sweat."

"You're crazy." Pinocchio wrinkled his nose at the other man's boast.

Julius just shrugged in response. "Gotta' be a little crazy to do this job." Then he narrowed his eyes. "Hey, would you look at that."

Julius pointed out into the opening of an alley across theirs. Sure enough a girl with long blond hair with a trench coat had poked her head out to see if the street was clear. When she spied the six suited men climbing back into the van, she ducked back into the shadows.

"Well' are we lucky or what?" Julius chuckled softly.

Pinocchio was less optimistic, having paid closer attention to their target's brief appearance. "How so? It's one of the governments' dolls, we should avoid engaging her."

"I dunno about you, but I'm willing to bet my left nut that our friend over there knows exactly were our quarry is." Julius pointed out with a grin.

Pinocchio conceded the man had a point.

It was a while before the black van left the road, allowing the two men to discretely scurry across the road and into the adjacent alley in to follow the cyborg that would lead them to their quarry.

--

Treila returned to Hillshire, who was hiding deeper in the backstreets and shook her head. "That one was is a no go too."

"Damn it." Hillshire cursed. "Lets get back to the group; perhaps Jose or Claes found a safer route."

"I hope Claes found it, Jose and Henrietta look like they might impulsively just go off on their own any moment now." Triela suggested. After arriving in Sicily, the two fratello teams made a beeline for Jose's house to rendezvous with Claes.

Or what was left of Jose's house.

When Jose reached the broken remains of what used to be his beloved home, he was devastated… crying, frustrated tantrums, swearing... Claes had understandably taken cover behind Treila while explaining to the younger Croche brother how their house was reduced to this sorry mess. Claes was worried that Henrietta might have an impulse to fill her with hot lead for causing Jose so much distress.

Triela knew her roommate was counting her blessings that Jose and Henrietta had preferred instead to place full responsibility on this on Elsa, who was now running around with a full inventory of grenades for all they knew.

Claes wasn't out of the woods yet though. She still had to face Jean.

So here they were, looking at their GPS trackers and wondering how to get to that flashing dot labeled Elsa, all the while avoiding the suited American gangsters armed with high powered rifles and grenades.

It was getting really annoying.

"I'm sure Jose has enough sense to keep to the mission, even after his house was destroyed." Hillshire argued.

Treila raised an eyebrow. "This is Jose we're talking about. He can be more emotional than a character in a soap opera. I've never seen anyone throw a bigger fit than he did back at the house."

Hillshire didn't say it aloud, but neither did he. His view about his coworker was irreversibly changed.

"He's still a Professional Triela. Have more respect for your… shit." Hillshire flipped open his GPS tracker and found himself eating his own words. While Claes signal was moving towards their designated meeting point, Henrietta was moving away from it and was steadily closing on Elsa moving signal across town.

Peering over Hillshire's shoulder, Triela was bowled over by this revelation.

"I was only joking!"

Hillshire grabbed his cell and speed dialed Jose. "He better have a good reason for this."

---

As it turned out, Jose had a good reason.

After fleeing Jose's home, Elsa had asked her young friend, whom she know knew was named Esther, for any other place where they could take shelter since she had run out of ideas. Esther had suggested her grandfather's mansion.

Elsa had almost thrown out the idea at first, and then she reasoned that the mansion should have its own perimeter. Because the brunette was related to the man, whatever protection he had would naturally extend to his granddaughter and by extension her.

It would involve innocent civilians, but Elsa didn't have too many other options, she was just trying to survive. Since when did other people's lives matter to her?

Still a nagging sensation in the back of her mind bothered her, but Elsa paid it no heed.

"The mansion it is then." Elsa declared.

The trip itself would have been simple had the duo not been set upon by a two men in suits halfway to their destination. However these men were different from the death squads that now prowled the streets.

Elsa and Esther had no warning whatsoever.

--

A loud gunshot echoed through the air. Elsa instinctively grabbed Esther and dropped though the ground as a speeding bullet that would have shattered her cranium passed overhead.

"Who…?" Elsa pulled herself and Esther behind a stone staircase leading up to one of the houses as gunfire tore at their surroundings sending stone chips into the air. It was coming from behind them!

The blond cyborg primed her rifle as she concentrated and fell back into her fighting state. The rate gunfire was considerably slower than that of the three round bust capable M16A4, which meant that someone else other than the M16 armed death squads was shooting at them. Claes? No, there were two shooters.

"Who's shooting at us?" Esther whimpered.

"Not sure." Elsa replied. Leaning out from her cover and squeezing off a three round burst. The two men in suits ducked behind cover. Elsa hadn't intended to hit either of them, but she managed to get a vague look at them before they made for cover, firing all the way.

It was a vague look, but she could tell immediately they weren't American. What could that mean?

She decided it would be best if she didn't kind out.

Elsa shouldered her rifle and withdrew a grenade from her jacket. She couldn't fight again, not with her injuries and Esther so close to her.

"Esther, hold onto me, quickly." Elsa clasped the little girl's hand in hers and pulled the pin on the grenade with her teeth. In the practice sessions, she wasn't very accurate with her throws. "Brace yourself."

Elsa chucked the grenade own the alleyway and ran for it pulling Esther along with her. The grenade should provide an ample distraction while they moved.

Already knowing that the sounds of the fight had all but broken her cover, Elsa simply ran out into the main street. The grenade would draw attention, especially in this part of town where the American hit men were prowling.

Speed now took precedence over stealth.

Stumbling out from the back alley and running down the road as a loud explosion accompanied the rush of air and shrapnel that blew through the opening, Elsa was relived to see the road was devoid of life. It was on a slope one end reaching down to the coast and the other to higher ground "Which way?"

Esther pointed uphill, and the girls were off.

Thirty seconds after they began running, more gunfire permeated the air, this time from ahead of them. Pulling Esther to her chest and dropping hurriedly to the ground, Elsa was in disbelief when she saw Henrietta and Jose running down the steep incline guns blazing.

Again?

Elsa secured her hold on the smaller girl, pulling Esther closer to her chest before rolling on her side out of Henrietta's gunfire. The rifle made rolling uncomfortable, but it was preferable to being shredded by that P90.

Rolling into a crouching position, Ester angled so as to place her protectively behind her, Elsa quickly Snapped the M16A4 into place… and had quickly dodge as a volley of projectiles came from behind her. The original assailants had only been slowed by her grenade, and now where shooting her at from behind.

It was almost as if time had slowed when Elsa absorbed the predicament she had landed herself in. Caught out in the open from two sides. It was the worst possible position she could think of..

She dropped to her knees holding the younger girl close. Esther began to scream in fight as bullets shredded the air around them. Elsa didn't blame her.

Trapped between Scylla and Cayribdus.

No amount of training could get her though this. All her experience told her it was a dead end

It was over.

Elsa tried to cover as much of Esther's tiny form as she could, waiting for the inevitable end…

--

"Ahh!"

--

The cry was not her own. Elsa blinked and grasped that she and Ester were both uninjured. The cry of pain came from Henrietta, who had been hit in her thigh by a stray bullet fired from the two men. It must have been a very big bullet to have elicited any response from Henrietta, that girl could take a nine millimeter to the chest and not even flinch.

Luck finally decided to give Elsa her due.

"Henrietta! Focus on the two men first! They're the bigger threat!" Jose ordered when he realized Elsa wasn't the only person downhill.

"Yes Jose." Henrietta acknowledged with vigour as she switched targets.

Elsa couldn't believe her good fortune.

But she didn't dwell on it for long. "Now's our chance!" Elsa exclaimed mutely. Pulling Esther along, Elsa ran for it as the two opposing sides traded weapons fire.

"Cecil! She's getting away! Do something!" Elsa hadn't looked back, but guessed one of the men noticed Elsa's flight, but was too occupied by Henrietta and Jose to take a shot at them.

Elsa kept running, and had made it to the other side of the road, her vision scanning for an open avenue into the network of backstreets that weaved through the town. There! If she could get to that opening…

Suddenly a hard force slammed into her backpack and she was almost knocked off her feet.

"Elsa!" Ester's shocked voice cried.

"Never-mind!" Elsa grunted. The backpack seemed to have taken the brunt of it. It was odd, but the bullet had not even touched her flesh despite the angle it hit her. Elsa didn't stop to ponder.

The two girls made it into the opening as a barrage of bullets smashed into the near wall. Henrietta had noticed their flight as well and had tried to get a parting shot in.

The two girls sprinted into the dark passageways. Elsa completely ignored her protesting limbs and her mind blocking out the throbbing pain from her injuries. Ester just struggled to keep up with her older protector.

-

They had been running for more then ten minutes before either of them saw fit to stop.

Finding a bench under an arched staircase leading up to a higher level, the two girls just collapsed into it panting and gasping for breath.

Esther was unused to physical exertion and sat coughing for a full minute as the full taxation of their escape caught up with her. Conversely Elsa just lay down on the bench and applied the breathing exercises she had been taught. Her breathing slowed and her mouth twitched as pain and her previously restrained emotions returned to her.

The moon was now overhead, its ghostly light beaming down on them. The cloudless starry sky gave the illusion of serenity.

How long had it been since the sun had set? Elsa did not know. But it seemed to her that they had been running forever.

"That was too close." Elsa remarked.

Upon fastening her backpack and placing her rifle against the wall, she inspected the hole that had now peen punctured through its back. Hopefully whatever had hit her backpack hadn't caused too much damage to the contents.

By this time, Esther had settled down beside her and was softly crying again, having faced death yet again. For someone who had grown up in an environment of peace and stability, facing death so often in such a short time frame was nerve wracking.

Unzipping her backpack, Elsa prepared for the worst.

Luckily the nine millimeter round had found itself in one of Elsa's knives. Although the blade was now broken, everything else in the backpack was intact, with the exception of a slightly torn sleeve on one of her baggy shirts. What really petrified her was that right beside where the knife had been hit was her last grenade.

Elsa shook her head. "Two centimeters to the left, and we would be dead."

Neither Henrietta nor Jose used a weapon with a nine millimeter bullet. It could only have come from one of the two men. Elsa also noted that given that the shooter was probably under heavy suppression fire at the time, whoever fried this must have reflexes and aim on a par with a cyborg if he managed to get this one shot off.

The idea was made her feel very uncomfortable.

Removing the still unusable contents of the bag, Elsa began to carefully extract the broken knife shards from her pack.

"Why is this happening to us?" Ester suddenly asked. "Why?"

Elsa wasn't sure how to respond. Elsa knew for certain the cyborgs were after her, but it seemed that Ester herself had done something to be chased. It did not seem like the six year old brunette knew why. Should she let Esther know about why she had done?

Elsa spoke. "I don't know." Coward.

Elsa was hit with a sense of guilt and shame when she said those simple words. It was as if Lauro had taunted her.

"…thank you for helping me." Esther said quietly.

Elsa responded mechanically just as always had don. "I was merely helping myself."

"Not true Miss Elsa." Esther replied, having not taken offense to Elsa's words. "You saved me so many times already."

Elsa stopped moving for a moment. Esther did raise a good point.

Why had Elsa gone out of her way to protect the young child, even going so far as to use her own body as a shield when all options were lost?

To that, the young cyborg couldn't find a logical answer. It was simply instinct acting itself out. For some bizarre reason, Elsa had placed Esther's life before her own, much the same way a cyborg was programmed to put their handler's lives before their own.

Was it an automatic thing? Had she somehow substituted Esther in Lauro's place and was now protecting the young girl instead?

Elsa couldn't tell for sure, but the mere thought of that unnerved her to no end.

Just another thing she did not understand. "If that's the case, then you are welcome." Elsa replied vacantly as she resumed her packing. Esther nodded quietly. It was an empty reply, but it was enough for her.

"… I want my papa." Esther whispered quietly.

"Don't we all…" Elsa whispered; identifying herself with the other girl

What she wouldn't give to have Lauro beside her right now. Regardless of whether he loved her or not, just his mere presence would be enough for her. It was amazing that she had only realized this after she had finally lost him.

His companionship… Elsa really underestimated how much she treasured it. Considering how much she already did, it was quite a statement.

How reckless she was in killing him. Even if he hated her, just having him close to her was preferable to the hunted existence she now led. "Don't we all."

It took Elsa a good ten minutes to unpack her bag, empty it of broken knife shards and hastily repack the whole thing. Time wasn't on her side, but she couldn't afford to be running around with razor sharp knife pieces in her bag now would she?

A gunshot in the distance… a stern reminder that the night was still treacherous.

Elsa readied herself again, taking up her pack and rifle. "Esther, are you ready?"

"Yes." Esther affirmed as she righted herself.

And they were off again.

---

"God dammit! Where are you Hillshire?" Jose virtually yelled into his cell when the other man called in. "Elsa is getting away and we're gotten into a shootout with some unknown hostiles!"

His cover, a red steel letter postbox was getting blasted by .45 ACP cartridges. Clumsily reloading his Five-seveN with his mobile phone held against his ear with his shoulder wile getting shot at, Jose was more than a little stressed out.

Especially after the home he had grown up in was blown to pieces. Jose wasn't very agreeable today.

Hillshire's voice over the phone was labored. The German man was obviously running towards their position. "Unknown hostiles? We're on our way, hang tight Jose we'll be right…"

"No!" Jose yelled. "These hostiles were gunning for the rouge! They're probably Padania, so Henrietta and I will hold them here! Get Elsa!"

"But…"

"Just do it Hillshire!" Jose shouted as he fired his Five-seveN over the top of the postbox one handed. "We don't have time to argue this! Padania are here! There are at least three confirmed trackers and I only count two! That means there's at least one uncounted person running about! Get to Elsa before they do!"

"… okay. Just don't get in over your head."

Snapping the phone shut, Jose glanced over to Henrietta who was taking cover behind a parked vehicle. Her bleeding thigh aside, Henrietta was still relatively uninjured. She noticed her handler looking at her.

"Henrietta, how are you for ammo?" Jose indicated through sign language.

She glanced at the P90's clear plastic magazine then held up two and a half fingers. Still plenty of ammunition for both of them, despite the fact this fight had dragged on for fifteen minutes already. Darn Five Republics, blocking him even at this juncture.

Jose was very irritated that he wouldn't be the one to take Elsa in, especially after what she had done to his home, but he knew that there was a job to be done.

"I hope my trust in you is well placed Hillshire." Jose murmured to himself.

As one Henrietta and Jose ducked out and returned fire.

---

"Okay, we're here." Esther announced as the two girls filed into the Mansion's service entrance, Elsa sweeping her assault rifle across the grounds to make sure the coast was clear.

Now in the back yard, Elsa made Esther stick close to the garden foliage. Even if this was supposed to be Esther's Grandfather's house, Elsa didn't want to take any chances.

"That's odd. Grandfather's mansion is awfully quiet." Esther noted when they reached the back door to the kitchen. "It's normally never this quiet."

"Would you prefer it of there was some noise?" Elsa rolled her eyes.

After all the loud gunfire and explosions, Elsa was quite happy with silence.

Bang!

Both girls threw themselves to the ground as a massive explosion reverberated through the entire building. All the windows shattered, glass raining down to the ground level.

"What?" Esther exclaimed.

Then close gunfire punctured the silence, flashes of light coming from inside the building. "Me, and my big mouth." Elsa murmured to herself. She had often heard the analyst named Priscilla mutter that phrase, but never really understood its context until now.

"Grandfather! Papa!" Esther bolted to her feet and raced indoors, heedless to the danger that was now clearly inside.

"Esther! Wait!" Elsa shouted. Jumping to her feet, Elsa took off after the girl.

For some incomprehensible reason, the war that was in the streets had moved indoors, and Esther was running into the middle of it. She had to catch up with the younger girl! There was no telling what dangers lay within that building.

One thought flashed through her mind, but Elsa forced it out of the way. She had to get to Esther, and fast!

-

-

Inside her mind, Elsa's stray thought settled into her subconscious.

'Why do I want to protect Esther so badly?'

The answer would elude Elsa for some time.

-

-

---

---

---

A/N

Muhahahahaha! I blew up the Croche villa! Weep Jean and Jose! Your home is a hole in the side of a building! Your sister's clothes are stolen! I'm evil aren't I?

Elsa now is wearing Enrica's clothes and she now has her twin Beretta 92FS (which I have decided will be her primary weapons until she upgrades to a higher caliber weapon once her aim gets better… yes it will get better).

Consider me giving Elsa Enrica's school uniform my way of properly tributing the 'Enrica is a Cyborg' idea. And in case anyone thinks about to sneak it up on them, no Elsa is NOT Enrica. But maybe she'll be in another A.U., just not this one.

Besides the kimono/school uniform under a leather jacket look is the in thing right now with the you know what movie having being aired. Kara no Kyokai is here! I hope Shiki is as cool in those movies as the novel make her out to be. With Sakamoto Maaya as the VA, that seems pretty damn likely though!

It was Cecil who fired that 9mm bullet despite being under attack from Henrietta. He's one of the two 'mentor' figures in the story (the other being Andreas), so his fighting ability is around 'Mary Sue' levels. Don't worry, he'll never have the spotlight. It belongs to Pino, and Cecil's just there to give the kid some pointers. He's like Kamina from TTGL that way, totally awesome but his role pretty much is confined to giving Simon some support when he's he's in need.

Anyway, my exams are coming in two weeks time. I'll be hitting the books … but knowing me, I'll be typing away on this here computer during my lunch, dinner and before sleep breaks. Updates will be much slower than before, but progress will still be there… even if it is just ten words a day if I'm really busy. The Exams will be over on the 14th, so that's when I'll be able to resume typing as usual.

I'm gonna be slaughtered at the Econometrics exam though. God damnit, to think I used to be GOOD at math.

--

**Several plot holes I'd like to address  
**

I probably should mention that the 'cybernetic eyes' that like up to the SWA network are something Elsa does not possess. It was developed as an experimental module that was supposed to be implemented at a later date, but were forced into action early because of the keep the handler out of danger tactic in Chapter One. Hence why they don't just hack into Elsa's eyes and know exactly where she is and what she's doing.

Won't be much of a story if they can see her every move, the GPS tracker is a bad enough problem for Elsa as it is since she can't remove it.

Also note the SWA have ditched the overall 'cyborg only' tactic after their disastrous mission in Chapter One and have gone back to handler and cyborg pairs. With Beatrice in the hospital and several civilian casualties, Lorenzo decided the previous modus operendi didn't work too well and scrapped the idea (for now).

Jose was pretty upset that Henrietta was almost hit by a flying car too.

-

-

-

-


	5. liberate me ex infernis

Chapter05 **Chapter05**

--

**liberate me ex infernis **

--

"Ahhhhhhh!"

"Carmine!"

The Italian mobster fell to the hail of gunfire as his German brother in law watched helpless, unable to alter the outcome of their last stand in his office. Carmie slumped to the floor missing a good portion of his head, the blood darkening the already red carpet of the mansion floor.

Andreas quickly kicked over the sturdy wooden table despite its immense weight and took cover behind it. Bullets were flying, grenades had gone off, and his custom built Thompson was running low on ammunition. And yeah, there was that hole in his side too.

"I got careless." Andres repeated as the bullets ripped at the upturned wooden table he was hiding behind with increased fervor. It was only proving a pitiful level of protection against the hollow point rounds. He knew it would cave in a matter of moments.

It had all gone pear shaped. The death squads were too well armed, too numerous, too organized. The Leone front had fallen though in a matter of hours, with the Death squads systematically culling their numbers with ruthless efficiency.

The difference in their abilities was immediately apparent in their tactics. While the Leone family had gone about this war like a bunch of street thugs, the Forelli's had taken to it like a military operation. Their surgical strike were swift precise and devastating. While the Leone family did have their ex-military types, like Andreas, the Forelli's had the best the industry had to offer.

And it showed.

It had only taken one evening to bring the once mighty Leone family to its knees. Andreas was impressed despite himself. The equipment, training and skill of the Forelli men far outstripped the pitiful makeshift militia the Leone's brought to bear.

Tybalt was dead; having been in his office when a well placed grenade had one off. Carmine was lying in a pool of blood at at the entrance of the room. Lord knows what happened to Alberio, but if that horrified scream was any indicator, he was dead too.

For all Andreas knew, he was the last of the Leone family still able to fight.

Not for long though, with the way things were going right now.

His only consolation was that he had taken at least fifty of those bastards down with him. His one regret was that he would never see his daughter gain, but Rosemary would keep her safe.

Even through his death was imminent Andreas could only think of the promise to his daughter he would never fulfill.

A loud shriek of gunfire erupted down the corridor. A surprised shout followed by a battle cry was heard. Andreas tightened his grip on his Thompson SMG. They were coming, and he could not stand against them in his state.

He loaded his last hundred round drum into the Thompson and flicked the fire selector from semiautomatic to full auto. He withdrew his Colt Single Action from under his jacket. This was it.

Andreas, exhaled and gave a bitter smile. Esther…

"PAPA!"

Andreas froze at the unmistakable voice of his daughter. Couldn't be…!

Ducking out from behind the table, Andreas couldn't believe his eyes when he saw his daughter standing in the doorway of the office. Although she was unharmed there were traces of splattered blood and dirt that now covered his daughter's clothes and face.

Andreas almost dropped his Thompson and Colt in shock.

Esther, tears in her eyes, ran up to her father and embraced him. The weight on his chest was enough to convince him that this was not some nightmare he was trapped in. His daughter was indeed here, before him. "Papa, you're okay! You're okay!"

Dear god… she was here. What was she doing here? Why wasn't she safe? Where is Rose? Andreas mind had ground to a stop.

"Papa! Grandfather, grandfather is…!" Esther cried. Andreas looked down at his daughter dumbly. She had seen… oh god…

"Is this your father?"

Andreas snapped his head up quickly, and held his daughter closer to his body protectively as new voice spoke from the open doorway. A young girl, hair hanging freely and an M16A4 hung over her shoulder walked backed through the doorway, gun ready.

"Elsa…" Esther whispered.

Her name was Elsa? "Who are you?" Andreas questioned, his grip tightening protectively around Esther while he slowly lowered his guns from his strange savior. Child or not, she was armed and dangerous. He knew it was her who had slain his attackers, there could have been no one else who would have done so. That already spoke volumes about her.

He could overpower her, but with Esther this close?

"… a friend." Elsa replied. She hadn't so much as flinched even though he had his gun trained on her. Andreas knew something was wrong about this girl.

"She helped me Papa." Esther said. "She saved my… Uncle Carmine!" Esther exclaimed when she saw the body lying on the floor. The small girl tried to make a move towards it, but Andreas firmly held her close with his arm and made an effort to avert her gaze from the corpse of his brother in law. He would not let her see this.

"We can't stay here." Elsa announced, ejecting her magazine and loading a fresh one in. "There are too many hostiles. Do you know of a way out?"

The lack of emotion in her voice did little to curb his suspicions about his new comrade. "I do. The Garage has been taken but…"

As if sensing his discomfort and uncertainty, Elsa made a decision. "I'll lead. Follow closely and protect Esther."

Andreas drew some comfort in knowing that whatever reason this young gunslinger had taken a liking to his daughter. To what extent he did not know, but in a hell such as this one, Andreas would take all the help he could get.

"Lets go."

--

"Shit!" Tony swore. "She's pinning us down."

Hearing bullets ricochet off the metal surface of the large van he was taking cover behind, Tony knew that this was not an ideal situation for them to be in. Their target was getting away, and even though Cecil had managed to get a shot in, it did not seem like she was slowing down.

What infuriated Tony the most was that that kid with the SMG he had shot had taken a .45ACP federal hydroshock bullet in the leg and wasn't even reacting. These government dolls really were all they were made out to be. Looks like all the precautions he'd taken weren't just him being overly cautious.

As if to make matters worse a black van pulled up behind them. It was one of the Americans!

"Oh hell." Cecil exclaimed.

Three men armed with M16A4s filed out of the van and started shooting forcing the two trackers to run for alternate cover, with Cecil retreating into the alley Elsa had fled to and Tony running back into the alley they had come from. This was bad. At this rate, the target would escape. Tony made a decision.

"Cecil, you're closer to the target! I'll find another way round!" Tony shouted across the road with his powerful voice

"You sure?" Cecil ducked out and brought down one of the armed men with a shot through the eye before gunfire from a Five seveN forced him back into his cover.

"Mission first! Get the girl!" Tony announced as he clapped a fresh magazine into his AMT Hardballer Long slide and sighted the postbox. If he could just hit the kid's master… The man popped out.

Tony fired.

Jose Croche was grazed in the left forearm, and in a howl of pain dropped his weapon. "Missed" Tony muttered. Tony rolled back into the alleyway as a furious barrage blasted at the stone walls that lined its opening.

Looks like the little lady didn't take kindly to people who put bullets in her master.

He's drawn the attention of the SWA team. Considering M16M4 wielding guys were even further down the road, Henrietta's sudden attack left her wide open, and the suited men managed to blow off her ear. All that did was serve to further enrage the furious cyborg.

A quick glance to the opposite alley… Cecil was gone. The distraction was successful

Tony gave a rare smile has her drew his other AMT Hardballer Longslide and made down this alleyway. Small amounts of dust and smoke still drifted about from the earlier explosion. It would be the government dogs that would be busy now.

--

Elsa fanned the corridor with the rifle, eyes focused and heart pounding. She couldn't believe they had actually made it this far. Any previous notions Elsa had that this place was safe had flown out the window. This place was a war zone! Esther's mad dash through the mansion was so haphazard, Elsa was sure they would have been killed.

Yet here they were, Esther reunited with her well armed father and Elsa still checking around corners nervously. The 'enemy' still stalked the corridors, so the group progressed with stealth to avoid detection.

If it wasn't for the fact there seemed to be some unfortunate people who had decided to start a firefight in the courtyard and were making one very noisy a ruckus, Elsa was sure the entire might of those suited men could have taken more notice of three weary characters sneaking through the shadows.

"This way." The man announced softly. Pulling on a wall mounted candle holder, a section of the wall silently swung open to reveal a hidden stairwell that lead down. He led them down a dark stairwell into a small hidden chamber. "This is the second garage. We had one prepared in case the mansion was ever attacked." He explained. "Never thought we'd need it though."

The small garage was filled with cupboards containing weapons and other amenities such as first aid kits and occupied a single vehicle, a two seat Ferrari, presumably bulletproofed. Andreas grabbed the keys to the vehicle off a rack and unlocked the car doors.

"We need to get outside of the city limits." Elsa stated.

"I'll get the keys, get in." He replied. He obviously seemed torn between getting his daughter to safety and helping out his besieged comrades who were now facing certain death, but Elsa knew his daughter's welfare would win out. The battle was all but lost anyway.

"Daddy, Elsa…" Esther said fearfully. "Are we going to be okay?"

Both Elsa and Andreas exchanged guarded glances. Neither of them truly had the bigger picture. Elsa didn't know what those suited men were after, but she knew the SWA were probably not too far behind her. Andreas was skeptical about his new ally, especially given her age and proficiency with weapons. He hand a suspicion… but his daughter seemed to trust her.

"Don't worry sweetie, everything is going to be just fine. We won't let the bad men get to you." Andreas said assuredly to his young daughter. "Now get in the car alright?"

Esther nodded, and gave a quick glance to Elsa, who like Andreas gave the young girl a comforting smile. Feeling less fearful, the young girl ran to the passenger side door of the vehicle and jumped in.

"I'll have to drive, Esther will have to sit on your lap." Andreas explained.

"I won't be able to use weapons that way." Elsa observed.

Andreas opened the car trunk and began loading it with 'supplies' from around the garage. "You won't need to. I'll make sure of that."

--

The irony was that the SWA were much closer to her than she had anticipated.

"Triela you idiot!" Triela cursed herself. "Jump over the fence my foot. Nobody will notice us. I can jump that height easy-peasy. We'll get in and out no problem. Ha! Look at this then! I'm such an idiot!"

As it turned out, the unfortunate soul who had decided to start a gunfight in the courtyard was Triela cyborg extraordinaire. Hillshire had used his GPS to track down Elsa's signal to an imposing looking mansion that seemed to have gunfire coming from behind the large stone wall that lined the preemies. The task of going behind that opaque barrier without having a clue what was behind it was incredibly daunting.

Hillshire was on the verge on not deciding to wait when Triela, infuriated with her handler's indecision, took the initiative. It turned out to be an impulsive move.

Having jumped over the mansion wall into full view of six heavily armed suited gangsters, she suddenly felt like a deer caught in headlights. They noticed her trusty trench gun slung over her shoulder, they opened up mercilessly, and fight began in earnest.

Hillshire and Claes had wisely stayed over his side of the fence on Triela's urging. As much as he was concerned for her, even the German man knew when he was seriously in over his head.

"'Run away' he said. 'Find some way around' he said. Easy for him to say." Triela grumbled as she ran for her life, bullets impacting the foliage and stone around her. "Can't even return fire!"

As much as she wanted to plug those six people who first spotted her and ruined a perfectly good entrance, their friends were pouring out from the mansion's main door in droves.

She was running all over the courtyard like some panicked chicken. How humiliating. Taking cover behind a stone stature, one that she figured must have been pretty expensive because it was made of marble, Triela spied an open door in that lead into the mansion, possibly a service entrance. Perfect.

Bullets tore at the marble statue, ripping large chunks of stone out of it.

Triela made her move.

Moving faster than what should be humanly possible; she darted out from behind cover and sprinted for that exit. Hillshire hadn't said anything about continuing pursuit on her own…

Stumbling into the portal as shouts and gunfire erupted behind her; Triela didn't stop and continued running through the room and into the darkened corridors. Ha! She'd beaten the odds again! Now all she had to do was find and neutralize Elsa, and she'd call it a da-

Out of nowhere, someone seized her by her arm and threw her across the corridor. Triela reacted quickly. She twisted in the air and landed in a crouch. Someone stood in front of her.

She recognized her latest adversary instantly.

It occurred to her he was probably the one who used the side entrance and carelessly left the door open for her. Suddenly it dawned upon her she now had a knife lodged in the side of her left shoulder.

"The hell…?"

And in a moment, he was upon her.

--

They had caught the Americans off guard.

The garage door, a seemingly inconspicuous wall in the side of the mansion, flipped open. Andreas immediately floored the pedal, and the sleek vehicle sped out into the courtyard like a formula one.

"Hang on!" Andreas shouted as the vehicle barreled out into the driveway, swerving around the surprised gunmen and racing out through the main gate of the estate. Elsa kept her head low, holding onto Ester tightly with her arms as the vehicle hurtled down the roads at a daredevil pace.

Thumps reverberated on the vehicles frame as some of the gunmen gathered enough sense to return fire, however the bulletproof vehicle easily shrugged off the hits, and the reinforced glass of the rear window holding up even against the high powered rifle rounds.

They raced through the small Sicilian roads until the mansion was far behind them…

'Thunk!'

"What was that?" Elsa exclaimed arching her head to see what had hit them

"Probably a sharpshooter that hit some part of the car." Andreas said as the car rounded a corner. "I'm taking us out of this town."

--

Claes and Hillshire had managed to find their way into the mansion, the first thing they did was try to link up with Triela. It had only taken them moments to realize that the hotheaded girl had resumed chase on her own without any backup.

Which seemed rather pointless now that the GPS showed Elsa was moving out of town at roughly two hundred kilometers an hour.

"I'm upping her conditioning after this, I swear…" Hillshire grumbled as the two SWA agents rushed through the hallways to meet up with their comrade before she tried anything stupid. "That girl is too rebellious for her own good!"

Any complaints Hillshire might have had came to an abrupt stop when the rounded the corner only to see Pinocchio, the man that they had been warned about, hefting the bloodied and unconscious form of their friend onto his shoulder like a corpse with some difficulty.

Hillshire's mouth ran dry.

"What the hell… how heavy is this girl anyway?" Pino muttered before he realized he wasn't alone.

It was a sight that chilled both Hillshire and Claes to the bone. There were at least a dozen knives of various sizes embedded in various places on Triela's person, and she was bleeding very badly.

Hillshire froze like a statue, the shock of seeing his partner in such a state helpless. Claes on the other hand reacted.

She charged in, sending a right hook at the Padania assassin. Pinocchio had little choice to drop the cyborg, who hit the floor with a distinctive 'thump', and skillfully dodged the assault. The young assassin calculated his odds. He'd already sprained his wrist incapacitating the first one, and now he was taking on another girl with backup.

"Julius! I could use some help down here!" Pino yelled as he sidestepped a kick that would have fractured several of his ribs. This girl wasn't much better than the other one, but this time he had a sprained wrist and only two knives left.

Unfortunately for Pinocchio, he would later learn that Julius had just run into a mafia death squad, and would be preoccupied for another five minutes.

Pino had just sidestepped another of Claes punches when a bullet grazed his shoulder. Hillshire had gotten over his shock and now had his gun trained on Pinocchio.

Seeing little alternative, Pinocchio threw his last knife at Hillshire. The German had to drop the floor to escape injury allowing Pinocchio to sweep Claes legs out from under her and hastily make a getaway. He needn't have feared pursuit, there were other things on the two newcomers minds at the moment.

No sooner had Pinocchio had fled the scene, Hillshire had immediately gone over to Triela's side. "Triela! Triela it's me Hillshire! Speak to me! Speak to me, Damnit!" Triela, blood seeping out from the side of her mouth, did not reply. Hillshire's worst nightmare had come to pass.

"We need to get her out of here." Claes said. "Triela needs immediate medical attention and your gunfire has compromised our position." Hillshire nodded and hoisted his mutilated partner's body onto his back.

Retracing their steps out of the mansion, Claes clicked her tongue. Elsa would have to wait.

--

As the Ferrari blazed out and away from the fierce battle behind it, a man watched it speed into the distance. Cecil lowered his handgun. The tracer round he'd fired onto the car had hit it dead on.

It was a fluke. He was halfway to the mansion when Julius called into to say the target had escaped in a Ferrari of all things and was making a bid for freedom that they could not stop. As luck had it, her escape path ran right by him.

They'd probably dump the vehicle sooner or later, but that tracking device should give them a good head start.

Flipping open his cell phone, Cecil had a short conversation with Tony to inform them that their prey had slipped through their fingers for now. The other gunman was put off by this revelation but accepted it. After that Cecil called Julius.

"Julius, she's gotten away. I've tagged her getaway car with a tracer. Let's pull out, no point staying when it could get us killed." Cecil announced.

"Understood, I've just met up with Pino. And we'll meet you back at our designated spot."

"Anything happen on your end?" Cecil asked has he began a slow but cautious withdrawal.

"Pino got into a fight with one of the dolls, beat the tar out of her and almost captured her too."

"What happened?"

"Just as he was about to make a capture, her buddies swooped in." Julius chuckled. "It was a big upset on his part. Sprained his wrist too. He was hollering for me the entire time to come to his res- ow, Pino! Just joking!"

"Pity, we could have finished the mission." Cecil observed. "We'll rendezvous with Tony and immediately begin pursuit."

"R-Rodger that. Hey I'm sorry Pino, I was tied up at the ti-" Cecil slammed the phone back shut as Julius went back to his earlier conversation.

Their tracker had only a small window of opportunity. Their prey had a head start on them and when she switched vehicles…

Well, they were getting closer. And that was what counted.

--

Elsa looked out the window at the passing scenery. After they had cleared the settlement limits, Andreas had hit the open road and hadn't stopped since. Esther had fallen asleep on her lap, the young girl's head resting against her shoulder even as the cyborgs arms held onto her protectively.

The sun had since rose over the horizon, and with the town and her pursuers behind her Elsa could finally breathe a sigh of relief. For now at least, she was safe.

"We'll need to ditch this car soon." Andreas said softly from the drivers seat.

"I know." Elsa responded calmly.

"I know a place where we can swap vehicles. If all goes well, we shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

"I see."

Andreas carefully watched the young girl out of the corner of his eyes. "We're going to have a long talk once we're in the clear, you and I."

"I know."

Elsa closed her eyes in deep thought. Perhaps she was out of immediate danger, but with the new day a while different set of problems had resulted. She had little doubt that the Social Welfare Agency was not finished with her, and perhaps they would never be.

As the scenic Italian countryside flashed past the window of the vehicle, one thing was certain; once again, peace alluded the troubled girl.

--

The first thing Triela realized was that her entire body felt like shit. Second she could hear the sound of the rotor blades of a helicopter. Then she realized she was on a stretcher on the said helicopter, Hillshire hovering over her worriedly. Her half lidded eyes noted there was genuine fear in his eyes. There was a breathing mask on her face, and she had been tired down to the stretcher as well.

"Triela?"

She tried to speak, but she found she couldn't utter a word, the most she could manage was soft gasps and moans. She wanted to touch him, tell him not to come so closer to her, but she was unable to do so as she was tied down.

What happened?

Then it all came back to her.

The mansion. The fight. Her defeat at the hands of Pinocchio.

She was beaten. By a normal human being.

Triela mentally screamed out in anguish at the realization she had been completely bested by that man. However, all she could manage was a low moan.

"Don't worry, we're almost back home. Just hang in there Triela, you're going to be all right." Hillshire said reassuringly, grasping her bandaged hand reassuringly.

If it wasn't for the fact she was so angry and frustrated at it all, Triela would have thought his attention to have been flattering. Triela wondered how she was currently under Hillshire's protection instead of being shoved in a car boot by that assassin, and taken to god knows where.

She had been completely utterly defeated. It wasn't just her body that was ruined, but her pride and self respect as well. Triela had finally met her better, and had barely escaped with her life.

As her mental state descended into self loathing, one thing stayed apparent in her mind.

She remembered his face. She remembered his name.

Forever etched into her memory.

Triela's hands tightened around Hillshire's.

In life, there are some things you just can't avoid.

--

A/N

Still dealing with my exit permit... trying to pick it up today... so I'm still rather busy. Oh well. Anyway, Chapter 5.

As a side note, you readers may want to check out GSG Echoes. I've put alot of work into that one, and there is something big I'm planning to pull at around chapter twenty or so (for both stories).

Okay, unltil next time!


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